In talking to Dad tonight he mentioned how he found a piece of pie on his back porch today when he got home from church. No note. No name. Just a piece of apple pie from a friend. I am so grateful to the people of my hometown who think of Dad. I should do the same for my neighbor, Bill, whose wife died about two years ago. My excuses are, "I'm too busy," or "He has family here in town to help him." The fact is most of the people who bring Dad food are just as busy or busier than I am, and my brother, David, lives right there in town. I do talk to Bill whenever I'm mowing my yard and he comes outside, but that's not enough.
I was watching a show on Iowa Public Television today about a woman who had a radio show and a newspaper column back in the 1950's. They talked about how people always brought over food to a house where someone had died. We still follow this tradition, but usually that thoughtfulness wanes in the days after the death and the funeral. Fortunately, these old and new friends have a deep regard for Mom to continue to look after Dad. I think they care a lot for him too.
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