My favorite comedian is Tim Conway. I love the skits where he played the old man. He always made a grand entrance – very s l o w l y – by shuffling through the door, his feet never leaving the floor, his disheveled hair atop his head that wore a dumfounded look on his face. While he maintained a straight face, the actors around him tried to hide their laughter by turning their heads or ducking behind a hat.
Well, let me tell you, Tim Conway had nothing on my dad!
Several years ago, we took Daddy on a trip to Alaska, which was the fulfillment of a dream for us. After cruising along the coast and through the fjords, we headed inland to Denali. The scenery was gorgeous. Rivers dissected this unspoiled wilderness where wildlife rules and snow-covered mountain peaks cast shadows into the valleys.
We stayed the night in a motel inside the park. It was more economical to share a room. That is a night I will forever remember. Daddy took off his slippers and slid into his bed. All was well. In the middle of the night, Daddy had to go to the bathroom. He crawled out of bed, fumbled around to get the slippers on his feet, and teetered a bit to get his balance. It was then the nightmare began.
As to why Daddy didn’t sleep on the other side of the bed, I don’t know. It would have been easier. But, no, he slept on the side of the bed furthest from the bathroom. Now, Tim Conway was funny when he portrayed the old man shuffling his feet across the room but, in reality, Daddy was not so funny, nor was he acting. The soles of his slippers annoyingly scraped the floor like fingernails on a chalkboard. A chill ran down my spine as the grating sound like that of grinding teeth was magnified. It took him at least ten minutes to get to the bathroom, and that was just one way! When he finally got settled back in bed for the night, I couldn’t sleep. I decided right then that if we went on another overnight trip, the little man would have his own room.
Had I been able to gaze into a crystal ball, I would have seen many more nights like that in my future. In his last years, I heard his shuffling feet in the night as well as the day.
But you know what? I wouldn’t change it for anything! Sometimes I miss the sound of the little man dragging his feet across the floor.
