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Good Old Dad

I was going to visit my dad an Lake Havasu Wednesday and Thursday, so I called him with a 'small' change.
"Hey Dad, how'd you like a little adventure?"
"What would that be?"
"Well- we could go to Paul's (my oldest son's) house and help him move."
Paul found a job in Tampa, so he is loading up the rental truck with all their stuff (with a wife and five kids, there's a LOT of stuff!) and hauling it to Florida. What fun!
"Uh, sure."
Wow. Dad is 89 years old. So, I picked him up Wednesday afternoon, and we boxed and loaded stuff into the truck on Thursday. He worked right along side us, five men, for eleven hours. He worked when we worked, and stopped when we stopped. He loaded boxes, hauled them, swept, mopped, and cleaned. Then when we finished, we drove 3 hours back to Lake Havasu City, carrying on an animated conversation. The next morning, I asked him if he felt stiff and sore.
"No, not really."
The man is amazing. That's depression- era grit for you!