I received a telephone call yesterday.  It was from the nursing home that my mom and dad stayed in a number of years ago.  My mom had been there in the full-care unit because of Alzheimer’s.  My dad was in assisted-living and then full-care because of strokes.  Dad passed away in 2008, and Mom passed away in 2010.

When I answered the phone call from the nursing home, the office manager asked for me.  I told her who I was.  She then started the conversation with, “I don’t even know how to explain this.  I have no idea what happened.  But, your dad’s wallet was turned in today along with a couple of coin purses.  His ID, pictures of your mom, and about $75 along with a few other things are still in the wallet.”

I was taken back.  “My dad passed away seven years ago, and it has been eight years since he was in this nursing home,” I commented.

“I understand that,” she replied.  “That is why I don’t know how to explain this.  You’re welcome to come down anytime and pick this up.”

I remember the day that my sister and I hunted for that wallet.  We turned his room completely upside down.  We went through everything in the whole room, every nook and every cranny.  We needed his ID for something.  I don’t even remember why we needed it now, but it was important at the time.  We never did find it though.  We finally decided that someone took it, so we gave up the hunt.

Well, the next day I went to the nursing home to get the wallet.  As I chatted with the manager, I asked, “Who turned it in?”

“A maintenance man was working on a sink in one of the rooms.  He found it underneath the sink, stuffed into the curled edge of the sink inside the cabinet,” she replied.

Then I understood.  Before we moved Dad to the nursing home, he was becoming paranoid.  He was afraid that people would take his things.  He started hiding everything that was important to him.  He hid things in the attic, under the insulation and in the walls.  He even buried things in the backyard.  He hid his prize possessions any place he thought would be safe.

After that, he got really sick and we couldn’t care for him.  When he had to go to the nursing home, he had to leave behind everything he owned except for his few personal possessions.  No one was going to take those.

I thanked the office manager for making the effort to hunt me up, and for being honest, and for returning the items.

As I left the office, I had tears in my eyes, thinking of my parents and remembering all of the pain that they went through.  But this started me thinking of all the good times also, of growing up in a Christian family, of happy times, of their sacrifices for my siblings and me, but most of all for the Christian heritage that they left me.

Thanks you, Dad and Mom.  I love you both so much!

And Dad, thank you for the reminder!

Your daughter, Marsha Hood