A Daughter’s Visit.

The name plate on the door said Jonathan Peddle and I knocked quietly as I entered the room. Jonathan was sitting in an old rocking chair in the corner, head bowed. Thinking that he was asleep, I turned to leave, there were others that I could visit. “Good evening young man, would you like a seat”? The voice was frail but clear. I smiled and held out my hand, “I’m Joseph Ploughman and I’m not that young” I laughed, “ I was wondering if you would like me to visit for an hour or so“? His face brightened and he pointed to the nearby armchair. “I don’t get many visitors”, he said softly, “mostly it’s just the staff coming in with another pill, and they never have time to sit and talk, my daughter is coming for me this evening though” and again his face lightened, “ she’s going to take me home with her”. Since no one at the home had mentioned anything about the ninety-one year old leaving, I decided to change the subject.  “You’ve lived in Appleton all your life Jonathan” I ventured, as the name was a common one in the small city of thirty thousand. “ I was born on Hazen Ave, they changed the name about thirty years ago,  the old house is still standing but everything else has changed”. The hour sped by quickly as Jonathan talked about his growing up in an Appleton that few would recognize today, of his childhood friends, all gone now,  even of his  marriage  to his childhood sweetheart.  They’d had six children he told me, five boys and one girl, the daughter who was picking him up this evening.  I noticed that he had a small nylon suitcase apparently packed and ready to go. Strange, I thought, that no one had mentioned his leaving. As I prepared to depart, a smartly dressed middle aged woman, with an endearing smile entered the room.  Jonathan introduced her as his daughter and I quickly bade them good evening and left the father and daughter alone in the room. Having some time before my bus arrived, I walked slowly down the corridor  thinking of the Appleton that Jonathan had talked about and the simple life he’d described.  Glancing out the window of the three story building a few minutes later, I saw his daughter helping Jonathan aboard what looked like a Dodge Aspen, but in excellent shape for such an old model.  Realizing that my bus would be here in a few minutes, I elected to take the elevator, instead of the usual stairs.