There were few traces of my dad among these baubles. One drawer contained his class ring, while another held his silver dollars. However, nestled among the silver and pearls, was a simple circle of wood stamped with the word "tuit". This not only belonged to my dad, it epitomized his personality.
My dad thoroughly delighted in puns and word plays. His eyes lit up whenever he shared a new silly joke. Even on the most difficult days of his illness, he often managed to infuse moments with humor. During one of the visits from grandchildren in the past year, he regaled them with jokes and stories as they sat at his feet.
Dad took great joy in the simple things of life. Freshly-tilled soil; a good sale on orange juice; a box of fluffy chicks ordered through the mail. He also found joy in the complexities of mathematics, Greek pronouns, and a challenging crossword puzzle. He spread this joy wherever he went. He gave this joy to me.
On his last visit here, he didn't yet know that he was sick. He spent time organizing the clutter in our garage that had gradually migrated from our small apartment. A simple task, but it created space for our car on icy winter nights. He was happy knowing I would not be fighting with an ice scraper on school mornings.
Joy has been rather elusive these past few months. Even when it makes a rare appearance, it is accompanied by bittersweet undercurrents. When Eli loved camp after his initial misgivings, I found myself wanting to share the news with Dad. I longed to call him from the train last week to recount tales of my relaxing journey. After a dear person in our lives offered to pay Eli's tuition for this year, my dad was the first person I wanted to tell. I could almost hear him exclaim, "Good for you!" in a voice choked with emotion.
I find comfort in knowing there were no unspoken words between us. I called him every morning after I dropped Eli at school, and often talked with him again later in the day. I am exceedingly grateful for these conversations. I had planned to fly to Houston for another visit, but ended up being just one day too late. We are continually admonished to share our feelings with those we love since we never know when it might be too late. I believe my dad would say, "Don't wait until you get a round tuit."
