Afterwards I decide, before heading home we should stop at my parent's and get the introductions over with. My mom is 84 and a three time cancer survivor, my dad is 86 and suffers from Alzheimer’s. On the way to my parents house, I repay him the favor he did me on my trip to SC. I show him the elementary school I attended. The church home I grew up in, even though I no longer attend there. The Bar-b-que shack called “Burns” (it’s actually the owner’s last name) where people come from miles away to eat or just to buy the sauce. I show him the land stolen from my father by unscrupulous developers.
We pull into my parent's driveway and four fat mut puppies and their non-pedigreed mother run to meet the car. The puppies are descendants of Dalmatians, but they could be mixed with anything by now, chickens…cats…bird. We get out and my father meets us at the door. “Hey daddy” I say and kiss my father on the cheek. “Where’s momma? I ask. “Kid? (My mother’s nickname)” my father shouts to the back room. “There’s some people here to see you”. I smile at SC. My father turns to me and says while reaching for my hand “What your name is again?” SC puts his head down. Fighting back tears I tell my father my name. “Okay” he says, “Hold on just a minute” “Kid, it’s people from the church here” .
I introduce SC to my father. They shake hands. My father weighs him out with pale blue eyes. Finally he tells SC, that he knows him. I look at SC and implore him without speaking to go along with my father’s failed memory. “Yes sir” he says looking my father in the eye. “You sure do sir” My father looks at me and pauses before returning his gaze to SC. “I know your daddy too” my father says. “Yes sir” SC replies again, and adds “my daddy talks about you all the time and said to say hello when I got to see you.” I know I won’t last much longer. “Daddy” I say, “I brought you something to eat, are you hungry”. I smile when he looks at me now with recognition. I know my daddy is back, like he was only on a trip somewhere close. His blue eyes twinkle when he smiles at me now. “Yeah big daughter” he says smiling broadly. “What cha got for me?”
Tears spill down my face and I turn and walk into the kitchen, as I wipe them away. I take the bags of food and begin to set out plates for him and my mom to eat. SC asks me if I need any help. “Nope, I got it” I say. I turn my back to him yet again, as I pretend to look for something in the cabinets. I don’t want him to see me crying. I don’t want to put all this on him, it’s just our second weekend. But something in my heart tells me he is the man who would understand.
I can’t imagine what is taking my mom so long to come from her bedroom. I call to her again. I know when we first came in I could see her sitting on her bed, with only her bra and panties on. I assume she is redressing. I finish fixing the plates and pour drinks for her and my father. He comes to the table and sits down. My father too is a country man and feels it’s not right to sit and eat in front of company. So we sit at the table with him. I tell him we ate on the road. He understands and can relate to traveling and travelers so much better now, for some reason. It seems to calm him that we came “from somewhere” and made it safely "home".
I guess for blacks his age, it was a big thing for someone to leave home and actually make it to their destination whole in one piece. To be able to tell about the trip and from where they came, was news to wait for. So SC and I sit with my father as he eats, and we talk about the trip. That the road was newly paved, the car full of gas, the weather was good, we had plenty to eat and yeah how we made it in after all. He nods and chews and reminisces about some trip no doubt, that didn’t turn out so well. He is very grateful we made it in, and repeats this throughout his meal.
Suddenly my mother appears from the hallway. She is dressed in her Sunday go to meeting finest. She even has on the purple sea shell shaped hat that I truly hoped I would never see again. The hat matches the purple suit she has decided to don. I introduce her to SC. She repeats every variation of his name with every letter of the alphabet that would fit. Finally I say "it’s okay momma". At which point she pronounces his name perfectly.
She tells me she of course is not hungry, but that she thanks me for coming to stay with my father while she goes back to the revival. “But I ...” I began to say. But SC shushes me and tells me that he can stay with my dad while I drive my mom to church. I just look at him. “It’s okay” he says, “we got plenty of time”. I look at my father, now indifferent to all of us. He is busy folding and unfolding his napkin. “Alright” I say. My mother does that Southern sniffing thing and turns to SC and says, “If you a church going man you are welcome to come to the revival too”. “No momma, we’ll stay here with daddy, so he won’t have to go to the revival with you” With this she doesn’t waste another moment. The thought of my father sitting with her in church is not one she wants to gamble with. With my father, every hour it’s a different world.
I take her to the church and drop her off. I return to find SC nodding on the love seat, my father is on the sofa nodding as well. Between them is the old worn checker board, with kings already made and in place. Ha! Looks to me like my dad was winning. My father has his head back with his mouth open, softly snoring. SC has one hand propping up his head. Both are sound asleep. I smile to myself. He’s going to fit in quite nicely. Quite nicely indeed.
I'm sure you've made your decision on your tops already EB, either one is a great choice for you. I hope you both have a great, love filled weekend. Your girls will be here waiting on you. 
)
Just stopped by to check up on you.
as I read about your beloved father. I spilled some more at the end when you described finding your dad and SC nodding away.
