My parents returned from their winter home in Florida yesterday. They looked well, seemed well. But they also seemed older than the last time I'd seen them six months ago. Older, slower, not as sharp, not as logical. A little lost in Pittsburgh, things familiar in Florida still fresh in their memories. My father can't drive. Safely. But he hasn't been able to do that in years. Being his passenger is an act of faith. And hope. I caught him falling asleep a couple of times on the way home from dinner. He came to a complete stop at a green light before I encouraged him to proceed. Scary stuff. They have gotten "old" at a younger age than I had expected, but then again, what experience did I have to draw on.
This is a warning to all of you out there driving the streets of Pittsburgh. My father is back in town, and he drives a lot in the summer, mostly to and from PNC Park. So, beware.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment