Moon River

If there's any other topic besides animal rescue, terminally ill children, and widowed old men that can turn me into a heaping pile of snot and tears, it's talking about my dad.

Even though my precious father is still very much alive, there have been one too many instances where I feared that wouldn't be the case.

His poor ticker has been an issue since I was in Elementary and his ER visits are innumerable. I couldn't imagine the feeling of defeat a person like my dad experiences each time he's rushed to the hospital for an "episode." Still, he's resilient.

When I was but a wee tot, he would rock my fussy self to sleep by singing "Moon River."
(If you've ever seen Breakfast at Tiffany, then you may be familiar with the tune).
It's been woven throughout my stories so many times that I proclaim it my favorite and a sentimental part of the bond my dad and I share.

It was, after all, what we danced to at our wedding.

Last night, while gathering goodies for our work Christmas party, I was shamelessly enthralled with Kate and Leopold; although, I was more enthralled with the latter.

During a scene of sweet embrace between Kate and 'Pold, an instrumental version of "Moon River" began to play when my phone rang.

It was my dad.

Dad: "I was just watching a movie and heard Moon River. Thought of my (sweet) daughter."

Me: "dad, are you watching Kate and Leopold?"

Dad: "...I am."

I laughed.

Then I heard my dad clear his throat to avoid getting any more emotional, got the pre-cry throat lump myself, and had to hurry off the phone.

That man is special.




- Posted from my awesome iPhone