In my childhood years, my father taught me how to play baseball. I played shortstop and third base on a little league in Beirut, Lebanon, where we used to live before we moved back to Saudi Arabia. He never missed a game. He taught me how to ride a horse. The first horse we bought was named Princess. Riding in front of him in the leather Western style saddle, he would let me steer with the frayed, rawhide reins. He also taught me how to dance the waltz. I am still not very good at following, but I remember he would always say I needed to know because on that day I get married; he will demand the first dance! I used to watch him play ball with his friends. He seemed to be such a strong and athletic man.
But now I am his strength. Nowadays, I have to put his socks on…slowly so it doesn’t hurt his ankles. I have to tie his shoes, and then help him to his feet. I make him breakfast, and go with him to his dreaded doctors’ appointments. I have to massage his weakening legs and......
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Approximate Word Count: 1837
Approximate Pages: 8 (260 words per double-spaced page) |