My father loves cowboys. As long as I can remember he has watched every western ever made (though I am still working on getting him to watch Brokeback Mountain) and then watched it again 3 or 4 times for good measure. We started every Saturday morning as kids watching Hopalong, Red Ryder, and Gene Autry before settling down to the more serious fare of Bullwinkle and Underdog. My father still loves cowboys and often plans his week to enable him to watch AMC the day they have cowboy movies all day. I don't know what day that is, but if he enjoys it ...
I mentioned the other day that my father had some difficult choices ahead. To help our family make these choices, my mother made an appointment with Dr. G. Dr. G. has been the neurologist treating my father for 15 years. There is an unusually close bond between my father and Dr. G. and he has come to be the individual who coordinates my father's health needs, just because he seems to care.
On Friday my mother, sister and father went to Dr. G. to lay out the options. After listening to the information and viewing the reports, he compared my father's situation to a couple of cowboys. Specifically, Butch Cassidy and and the Sundance Kid. "Picture it like this," he said, "you're Butch and Sundance standing on the precipice. On one side the law is bearing down and your fate is sealed. Or you can jump off the cliff. Maybe you'll break your neck, but maybe you'll swim away to freedom. At least you're giving yourself a chance." So they decided to take the leap.
Someone told me once that Butch and Sundance not only did survive the leap but went on to establish themselves in Bolivia. I have the internet at my finger tips, I could look this up, but I'd rather make up my own ending and imagine them swimming away from the federales. I suppose this post is about my father and not me, but in our family, we are all connected and when the bell tolls, it tolls for all of us. When he jumps, we'll jump with him, even if it means swimming to Bolivia.
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