A Wink and a Prayer

I loved my dad’s wink.  He’d charm the waitress or calm the nervous daughter about to walk down the aisle.  He transmitted calming non-verbal support with his wink, a shared conspiracy of understanding and solidarity.

One of the greatest gifts I received was last Saturday afternoon. Something just told me to pop over and see how he was doing. He was diagnosed with cancer about three weeks ago and had opted for no treatment. He just wanted to come home and pass on his own terms.

Although in pain and diminished in his ability to express himself, my dad gave me his trademark wink as I was leaving.  “Be good, Cissybabes,” he told me. “If you can’t be good, be careful.” The nickname, the sentiment, the wink – they all transported me back to when I was 12.

Dad passed away peacefully on Monday afternoon.  I’m so glad I got one last wink of reassurance on Saturday. I’ll treasure it always.