Guest writer for "mynzdreamblog"
I used to ski in my early life with a different wife. We once went to Tahoes on a ski trip. I worked for my parents and wanted to check in on them while I was away. My father hadn’t been well, so I wanted to talk to him and see how he was. I sat down in our lodge one evening as the snow was falling softly outside and called them. My father answered the phone. “How are you dad? How’s everything?” “Good son, how are you?” “Great dad, we’re doing fine.” “How’s mom doing?” “Oh, she’s great, son. Nothing keeps her down. She making dinner right now.”That's great. What's she making?” “It smells like her meatloaf. I can hardly wait to eat. Yes, that’s one of my favorites as well. How’s Marc?” “Marc who?” “My older brother's dad, Marc.” Who is this That I’m talking to? “It’s Ray dad.” “I don’t have a son named Ray.” “Come on dad, don’t mess with me.” “Sorry I don’t have a son named Ray. You must have the wrong number.” “Sorry,” I said and hung up the phone. The storm was growing outside as another kind of storm grew in my head. “What the heck,” I thought. That man sounded just like dad. Just a reminder that things aren’t always what they seem. That was true for my marriage as well.
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