Just spent time talking with Daddy. His stuttering, which appeared shortly after Mama died, didn't seem quite as pronounced as usual. It was still there, but not as bad. I keep telling him he should sing like Mel Tillis and he laughs every time as if it's the first time I told him.
We had our moment of near tears. We do every time we talk. It always revolves around Mama. He said he knows how much I miss her but, "You'll never begin to know how hard it is for me." All I can do is affirm that. I tell him I know it has to be hardest for him of all those she left behind.
He talked of how good Mike (my brother) is to him - how he can always depend on Mike. I can't begin to say how much that means to me. There's a dignity to that - a father coming to the point that he has to depend on others - and how much easier that it is his oldest son. I know it's hard for my brother, but for my daddy - it's just "right" and I'm so thankful for him and Patsy and how they are taking precious time from their lives to be there for Daddy.
Mike took him to a local funeral home for the visitation of a dear friend of his from- - - must be at least 50 years. He said he saw the widow, broken and in tears and then he told me he lost it. He broke down and just couldn't take it any longer. Daddy said Mike came and took him by the arm and brought him home.
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When I talk to him, he's as full of life as ever- as kind, as wise. It is men like Curtis Clinard that I have always aspired to be. He could be sitting in ashes. He could be dwelling on himself. But I never talk to him without his asking how New Hope is doing, or his encouraging me. Mike is honoring his father because he's his father's son.
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