Get Me To The Church On Time, part 2

We met Deborah at a Cracker Barrel near Social Circle, Georgia.  She was a charming southern belle, petite and friendly.  I was fine with the fact that my dad now had a girlfriend.  Even if it was a foreign thought.  "Dad has a girlfriend."  Still sounds kind of weird.  As odd as it seemed at the time I was happy for dad.  He wasn't so sad all the time.  He wasn't lonely anymore.

Dad called me in May and I instinctively knew what he was going to say.  I just knew.  And I was right.  And I was okay with it.  Okay.

In our visits since his announcement I don't hear my dad sobbing in his room at night.  Instead I find him often sitting on the floor of his bedroom talking on the phone to Deborah.  Talk about a role reversal.  I think I heard a literal giggle once which I mistook for a wimper and ran to see if he was okay.  Yep, he was fine.  Just giggling on the phone with his fiance'.

And now, here I am at dad's house helping clear away and make room for Deborah and her things.  This is the last time I will stay at dad's house.  The next time we visit it will be dad and Deborah's house. 

Mom's closet will now be Deborah's closet, filled with her clothes and shoes and stuff.  My mom's closet was always one of the most fascinating places to me.  Even as an adult I loved to look in mom's closet.  She had clear containers for everything, all labeled and lined up perfectly.  Her clothes always seemed so diminutive.  She always had to have her clothes altered to accommodate her petite frame.  There were always treasures in mom's closet.  Containers of brand new toothbrushes and toothpaste just waiting for the forgetful guest.  Little hotel soaps and shampoos.  Small gifts already wrapped in a little box labeled "Courtesies/Thank You Gifts".  There were also Hershey bars hidden away in there.  Anything I needed I could find in mom's closet.  But now it will be Deborah's closet.  Maybe she'll keep some of the toothbrushes in case I forget mine.

My daddy's getting married Saturday.  And I'm okay with that.  Mom and Dad loved each other deeply.  My dad loved my mom.  He still does.  Him getting married doesn't diminish that love or somehow make it less than it was. 

During my mom's first battle with cancer she talked to me about what dad would do if she didn't make it.  She said that dad would have to get married because he would need someone to take care of him.  And that's why I'm okay with all of this.  Dad has someone to take care of him.  There's less for me to worry about.  There's someone to make sure he goes to the doctor and doesn't eat expired food and makes sure that he washes his sheets on a regular basis and doesn't start collecting cats.

More than that I think it is a beautiful blessing that God has allowed one man to find love again.  Thank you mom for loving dad in a way that was evident to me and helped to shape my belief in love.  Thank you Deborah for loving my dad and helping to show me the resiliency of the human heart.