Of the 5 Cs of Acknowledgment that I write about each month, I am choosing to reference #4, Communication, in this story.   

“4. Communication:  Figure out the best way to reach your recipient.  There are so many ways to do so.  It is simple to Communicate your gratitude and appreciation in whatever form you choose  – anything from Skype to skywriting.”  — From Grateful Leadership The 5 Cs of Acknowledgment, by Judith W. Umlas 

My father was in the hospital once more with pneumonia at the ripe old age of 82.  The staff was understandably distracted, busy and overwhelmed.  As I sat there day and night with this amazing man, I understood none of them saw what I did.  I wrote a letter to the nursing staff that affected them and the doctors deeply, I was told later.  I wrote:

 There’s an old man in your care… 

He may not look like much right now.  His once sparkling blue eyes are watery and milky with cataracts.  His huge crooked, overly long nose almost touches his stubble-filled gray chin as his face is sunken in, due to his missing teeth.  His arms no longer have strong muscles with which to lift others on his once broad shoulders.  Willie (Bill) Eugene Robinson Caruso Rosinbaum (that is his legal name) has cared for others all his life, and now he lays in an antiseptically clean room on a twin bed turned out in white sheets and light blanket, while wires and tubes seemingly hang from every extremity.  The green oxygen mask is pulled to one side, the straps hanging on only one ear, his mouth hangs open showing his gums and dry, cracked tongue as he snores loud enough to pull the walls in and out with each breath.  As his daughter, I sat there and watched this last season, the end of his days approaching and asked myself, “Why should anyone care about the man in the bed?”  He didn’t look remarkable or extraordinary.  He just looked like hundreds of other men and women in the hospital about his age.  I was reminded of the new born babies in the hospital and how they were so similar and yet so unique.  No one would know this man unless I let them see him through my eyes… 

There’s an old man in your care… 

He may not look like much right now.  This kind, gentle prankster with laughing eyes taught me and numerous others that we shouldn’t take ourselves too seriously.  That there was always time to be made for a good story, or “yarn” as he called them.  My daddy worked hard for a small amount of money most of his life.  He lived simply, loved deeply and laughed often.  Everyone that knew him respected him for the gentle giant he was.  His hands served others, milked cows, held a little girl’s heart and taught her to dance.   

We had a dairy farm as well as a wonderful garden.  Everyone was welcome to the harvest, but especially those with less resources.  My father, brother and I harvested the fresh corn, peas, beans, squash, cabbage, onions, beets, cucumbers, peaches, pears and apples.  We all pitched in, helping to prepare the produce for canning which took all summer.  In addition to the vegetables and fruits we had a smoke house where the pork was cured, a freezer full of a beef we had raised ourselves as well as chickens and Guinea fowl which provided delicious, warm eggs.  I remember when one of my aunts, who was a single parent, lost her job, my parents filled her trunk so full of food from our bounty that her car literally kept scraping bottom on her 350-mile trip back home.   

Everyone knew where to come for help without fear of criticism or judgment.  If there was an accident on a neighbor’s farm, my daddy did the other man’s work as well as his own, getting up before dawn to milk his cows and then milk the other family’s cows as well, until the other man could resume his own chores.  He toiled long days to make sure the family didn’t miss a beat, cutting their hay, bailing the hay.  He led by example all his life, encouraging others in the community to help out as well. 

That is not to say he didn’t hold other men accountable.  God help the man that beat his wife or didn’t feed his own family.  My dad was a wonderful example of a man’s man.  He took the responsibility of providing for the widows and orphans seriously, always protecting and defending those weaker than himself.  He went to church often and was known for serving others in any capacity he could. 

When I was 16 my Daddy asked me on a date.  He came to the door of our home, knocked on the door, when I opened it, he handed me a long-stemmed red rose, crooked his arm and placed my hand safely in his protection.  He then opened the car door for me, made sure I was safely inside, and closed the door.  He then took me out for a lovely dinner and danced with me in the small space between tables.  He ordered for us and gave me his undivided attention.  After paying for our meal and escorting me back home, he walked me to the door, gave me a hug, kissed me on the forehead and said, ”Baby, that is the way a gentleman treats a lady.  I don’t want you to ever settle for less.”  

There is an old man in your care…   

He may not look like much right now, but what a wonderful example and leader he has been all his life.  In these last days, it means so much to me that he is here with you.  I thank you so much for taking care of him.