All of You Who Worried About My Dad

I sure do appreciate all the well wishes from so many of you worried about my dad, who continues to recover at home from a heart attack (or two) the day after Christmas. If you want a more detailed account of his convalescence, including the gradual but nevertheless spectacular reawakening of his lower GI Tract, I’ll direct you to my mother’s page, where details (and photos) await. Here, I’ll keep it tasteful, and simply tell you that for the last week, I personally observed a 91-year-old man get a little stronger and a little more determined with every passing day. At this rate, he’ll be back in the Shuffleboard Tournament this Tuesday. In fact, he probably could have competed this past Tuesday, had his wife permitted it. Here, he can be seen kicking my butt in back-to-back games just a few days ago – 18-9, and 15-13. After that, my mother – with not a trace of pity – vanquished us both in a vicious game of Big 2, which I regret teaching her every time we play.

I’d love to chat, but I’m off to Lichtenstein, for reasons I’ll explain later. Till then,


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