I’m on deck for another colonoscopy.
Thanks, Dad!
In 1975, at age 63, my dad learned he had colon cancer. Half his sigmoid colon was excised. (I called him, “Semi-colon.” Well, just once.)
Since age 50, as a precaution, I’ve had colonoscopies regularly. I asked my gastroenterologist if the 10th one was free—a punch card kind of deal.
Ha, ha. Funny joke.
He’s a nice guy. We’ve bonded. He knows me inside and out. I was one of his first patients.
At your age, after this one, you won’t need any more.
I’ll miss him.
My father worked as a brakeman on the P&LE Railroad in Youngstown, Ohio. One day he took me to “the yard.” I saw boxcars, flatcars, cattle cars, refrigerated cars, coal cars, and locomotives. I got to ride in the cab of one.
I was hooked. I told my dad that I, too, would like to work on the railroad someday.
No, you don’t. If you ever work for the railroad, you want to work up there.
He pointed to an office building on a hill.
Up there, that’s inside work. Braking boxcars is outside work, and winters here are bitterly cold. Go to college so you can get inside work. You’ll be happy and warm.
I went to college and seminary. My dad was pleased.
And then that colon cancer appeared. I went to see him on what we thought was his deathbed. Before I went into his room, my mother said:
You know, he’s really disappointed in you.
Why?
Because you have two degrees, you’re an ordained minister, you’re 28 years old, and you’re working in an apple orchard for $1.25 an hour.
I sheepishly pushed open the door.
Hey, Dad, how are you?
Okay, I think. Is it true you’re working in an apple orchard in West Virginia?
Yes.
He frowned.
But—I added hastily—the Shepherdstown Presbyterian Church would like me to be its minister.
I expected him to cringe. He was a diehard Baptist. He thought Presbyterians were infidels, apostates, and possibly communists.
I’d take it if I were you, Son.
(I really wasn’t that eager to.)
But, Dad, it’s PRESBYTERIAN!
So what? Take it. It’s inside work.
My dad recovered. He and my mother moved to Florida. He lived 25 more years, happy and warm.
And I was stuck with a commie church.
Thanks, Dad. 😊