I can't think of a better gift for Christmas...

My sister and Mom went to visit Dad today.  They found him sitting in his wheel chair in the hallway.  They took him to an area where they could all sit down to talk.  My sister brought him some Christmas cards and a set of dominoes.  Dad told her he remembered how to play.

Last May, all of us, except our brother's family in Ohio, attended my sister's son's wedding. My second to oldest brother's wife, took a picture of Mom, Dad, three of my 4 brothers, my sister and I.  It turned out so great, we wanted to "Photoshop" our missing brother in Ohio, in the photo. When my sister showed Dad the family picture, he named every person in the photo. It is a bittersweet photo, because it turned out to be the last family outing Dad attended.  He went into the hospital a few weeks later.

Mom and my sister discovered Dad is missing his glasses again.  Mom reported it to the nursing station and they will make out a report and send out a search party for the missing specs...

Dad's Physical Therapist came by to see him, and told Mom and my sister she and Dad were on the patio the other day and were admiring all the pretty yellow fall leaves.  She told them how she tossed some of the leaves into the air, allowing them to cascade down upon her.  Dad flung a handful into the air and enjoyed sharing the experience with her.  Afterward, she and Dad made leaf tracings, which Dad thought was really cool.

Lunch was served, so they all moved inside so Dad could eat.  Mom fed him some beef soup, which filled him up since he is not on the appetite enhancers.  He had no appetite for the burrito, beans, salad, jello, ice cream, coffee and milk.

When Dad was tucked in all cozy in his bed, his aide asked Dad to sing Ava Maria. In full voice, Dad began to sing the first verse of the hymn.  When he got to the second verse, he began making up the words telling the aide how much he loved her and thanking her for taking such good care of him.  Everyone in the room got a big chuckle from that!

Several of the aides call Dad, Papa.  There is another elderly woman patient, that also calls Dad Papa and thinks he is her Father.  She gets very emotional with Dad and he is very sweet with her. Dad told Mom and my sister he was well cared for and was very happy.  He told them about another patient, (who paces the halls, ever clad in shorts and socks), who is in training with Dad for a marathon. I get the most joy from Dad's positive, upbeat, imagination.

Knowing Dad is doing so well, that his attitude is good, that he is safe and being cared for in such a loving way... just does not get any better.  How Blessed are we?  I can't think of a better gift for Christmas...