Thinking about my DEAR OLD DAD this morning, living it up in his retirement paradise on a tropical island in Queensland, Australia.
Well, not exactly pineapple-sipping-babes-in-bikinis tropical, actually, more like hot-sweaty-trying-to-breath-while-the-nurse-removes-the-bed-pan kind of tropical. And the island is somewhat land-locked rather than being a James Bond fantasy getaway. Still, he has his own apartment and zooms himself around the place in his electric wheelchair, giving the nursing home staff a hard time and creating strife for everyone.
I owe my twisted sense of humor to my father, who not only passed it on to me in his genes, but also nurtured and encouraged it, teaching me the fine art of timing and delivery when I was just a lad. A sense of humor is a great thing and I am eternally grateful to my dad for that gift. In fact, sometimes it is the only thing keeping me going. There is a fine line between the funny and the pathetic, and the church crosses that line constantly. Sometimes you just have to laugh at it all to keep sane. Or at least, in my case, partially sane.
Anyway, Merry Christmas Dad.
You rock! Thanks for bringing me up - my handicaps are not your fault, really! Enjoy the sunshine on Christmas day and I will enjoy the snow.
