Well Bless His Little Heart

Dad in the town parade with his dog

Jesus, bless them, please.

Today Mom asked, as she always does, “Where’s Raymon?”

And I answered, as I often do, “He’s out getting you food.”

But then her answer surprised me.  She smiled and looked pleased and said, “Well, bless his little heart.” I chuckled at the comment, but now I embrace it as a prayer…

As I was cleaning at their house today, I continued to overhear Mom ask, “Where’s Raymon?”…even though he was just a few feet away.

And I continued to overhear Dad patiently reply, “I’m right here.” Over.  And.  Over.  Again.

And I had to think, bless his heart for his patience.

Later, Dad and I were in his office, and I was going through his mail with him and making appointments.  Almost the whole time we could hear Mom hollering from the other room, where she sat…