Paul and I stood on the side porch this morning saying good-bye to Phil who we could not see, only hear, laughing and making comments. He was on the other side of the 8-foot tall arborvitae (the hedge we planted about 25 years ago) on his way to “teen club.” “Tell Clarkstein to take his pills!” we heard him yell as he traveled along on his scooter on the dead end street that runs alongside of our yard.
We leave Clark’s pills out (vitamins and seizure medication) on the counter so that at least one of the five of us will remember. And usually someone does. I went in the house and checked. This morning Clark must have remembered all on his own because his morning pills were gone and he was now ready to go out the door to “teen club.” He had made his lunch and unloaded the dishwasher. They would both return in three hours, separately.