It seemed like just a couple of minutes that he came back where I was waiting. His lips were shut tight. He didn't talk. I couldn't imagine that they could have pulled his teeth, but they had. He grinned without opening his mouth and motioned to the door.
"Are you ready to go," I asked?
He nodded in the affirmative, and out the door we went. All of Dad's teeth were gone. He was toothless. Couldn't talk, but was ready to go.
Later that afternoon we were to ride back the same office for him to be fitted with his new teeth. Pam! He all happened so quickly.
This past Thursday evening, my sister and I were in dad's hospital room where dad is recovering from a severe bout of pneumonia. Just before we left, Dad looked a Tricia and asked if she would mind cleaning his teeth. She took them and scrubbed them good and put them away for the night.
She looked at me and said, "Won't be long before you'll have some of these!"
I laughed and said I was going to take good care of the one's I have.
False teeth are better than none, but I like the ones I have now. Don't know why I wrote about this. I guess that it simply pointed out the progression of life and all of its many nuances and issues.
Dad is getting better. He'll need those false teeth.