Today was my first oncology appointment with Dr. Charles since finishing my Herceptin treatment in March. I walked into the office to that familiar smell of chemo. It’s amazing the memory of our noses, even after several months.
There was an older lady sitting near the door with an easy smile. Beside her was her husband. A man with a cowboy hat, overalls, flannel shirt, red bandana and work boots on. He didn’t have an easy smile. He reminded me of a type of man, the depression era man typical of Monroe County; the kind of man I’ve been privileged and proud to know; a man that reminded me in many ways of my daddy.
His wife’s name was called and the lady with an easy smile handed her flowered pocket book to her husband. He clutched the purse awkwardly while she was back for her treatment. What a sight it was, this depression era man holding a flowered’ly pocket book.
When the lady came back to the waiting room she walked to her husband. He had the easy/ready smile when he saw her walk around the corner. As he handed her the pocket book he asked her “Am I shed of you now?” and giggled. (He meant getting rid of her pocket book for those not understanding of that generation. Not referring to “shed” of her physically.”)
They walked out, this cute old couple. To his 1970’s something red Ford truck with cattle panels for the bed. He walked her around to the passenger’s door and helped her inside. For some reason that was one of the sweetest moments I’ve ever seen. It made me think of my daddy on Saturday mornings when I was little. Momma would sleep in for a while. I would hear daddy walk quietly into their room and whisper in this sweet, quiet voice at her ear, “Bell….Bell….. it’s time to get up Bell.” Daddy’s birthday was the 9th. He may be sorely missed by his family but he is in heaven with his wife, my momma, who had an easy smile.