Posted on 11/04/2008 1:43:06 PM PST by Whits_daughter
'Whit', my father, my hero, is 92 years old. A retired electrician, a committed Christian, a devoted husband and father..has never missed voting in an election since he turned 21.. 71 long years of enjoying, embracing the responsibility and what he calls the privilege given to him by his beloved country, the United States of America.
He worked hard all his life, without complaint.. walking miles a day during the Great Depression in search of work to feed and house his wife and baby, my oldest sister. He taught us work ethics, personal responsibility, love of God, of Country, of our fellow man.. he taught us there 'are' absolutes.. right and wrong.. and taught us 'God never hands you more than you can carry'.
Not long after Whit retired, his wife, my mother, had a stroke and was a semi-invalid. He turned the energy, the sense of responsibility he had used in his profession, towards the care of his beloved 'shug'. He cared for her, cooked, cleaned and maintained their modest home until less than a year ago, when deterioration of her health forced her into hospice. Five months ago, she passed away a few weeks short of her 92nd birthday.. and their 71st wedding anniversary. Upon her death, he could no longer stand to be in the home they shared, and allowed me the honor and privilege to have him share my home, and accept my care.
A short three weeks ago, his own declining health and increasing unidentified pain sent him to the hospital, and the diagnosis of cancer. Home for just a few days only to rush back in the wee hours of the morning one week ago with acute pnuemonia..returning home 3 days ago with hospice care and pain patches.
This morning I said 'Daddy, Ves is coming to stay with you so I can go to vote after a bit.' He nodded and thought a bit, and finally said 'Get my jacket and my hat. I haven't missed a chance to vote in all these years; this election is too important to start now.'
After he voted, as I wheeled him out to the car to come home,I looked down to see tears glistening in his eyes. I stopped, slipping my arms around his bowed shoulders and said 'Daddy, what's wrong? Are you okay?' He replied, 'You have no idea how much this meant to me. Thank you for letting me have this privilege one more time.'
So, if you're eyeing the long lines in your states as this Election Day quickly comes to an end.. and are thinking you're too tired, too impatient, or a host of other reasons to let your 'privilege' pass .. remember Whit .. if he can, you can.
Tears for my father starting now.
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