Life is Like a...

My 87-year-old father, Jack (Robert) Boeh, has lived a long, fruitful and wonderful life.  Outwardly, to the people he has worked with and for, he has been a brewer, and later, carpenter by trade.  But to those who really know him, he is also a philosopher, storyteller and dreamer. 

He probably has never thought of himself as a philosopher, although I believe he would be flattered, and downright pleased, if he heard others refer to him as one.

My father is in hospice care now and my mother, Patricia, his wife of 65 years, is with him in their home.  He has had a couple of heart “episodes” and been diagnosed with congestive heart failure.  Some days are better than others.

On one of his better days, we were sitting at the kitchen table one morning during one of my most recent visits, when he shared one of his current “philosophies” with me.

“Jennifer,” he said,  “they call me the ‘string man’ at the doctor’s office.”  These kinds of statements were always followed by a long pause to probe the depth of my interest and introduce the story.

“Hum?  They do?  Why is that?” I asked, putting down my coffee and giving him my full attention.  These moments were important to him, but were sometimes difficult for family, since we had frequently heard the stories that followed numerous times.

“Well, because I have this philosophy about life.  Life,” he smiled, “is like a ball of string.”  Again, there was a long pause.  “No matter how long it is, you always run out.” 

I thought about it for a few seconds and digested it.  This was one I hadn’t heard before. “That’s a good one, Dad.  I like it.”  He smiled, very pleased with himself.

“But, why,” I asked, “do they call you the ‘string man’ at the doctor’s office?”

“Because a couple weeks after my last hospital stay, I went to see my doctor, Dr. Grant, at his office.  He said to me, ‘Jack, what can I do for you today?’

"I told Dr. Grant about how life was like a ball of string, and then I said, ‘So, doc, I'm here to get a little more string.  Seems like you never have enough.’"

Then he said that Dr. Grant stopped for a moment, laughed and said, “You know what, Jack, you’re absolutely right!  Let’s see if we can find you some more string!”

When Dad had finished his story, he looked at me and added, “You know, I think I should get this idea copyrighted.  I bet the hospital would be interested in using it for a slogan, ‘You know, 'See us if you need more string.'  Or 'Got string?’"

“Yeah, Dad, I bet they would be interested in your idea.”

So, Dad, now that your "philosophy" is part of this “literary creation,” it is considered copyrighted!

Thank you, Dr. Grant, Jason, Katie, Judy, Terri and Sister Susan for finding my Dad a little more string – enough so that we could have a wonderful and full week of stories, philosophies and dreams.