Your Saturday Jack
I arrive at the Hebrew Home at 8.30 to begin the activities for our usual Saturday morning breakfast. I enter my father’s apartment.
“Hi, Ba, how are you?”
“Good. Wanna go to breakfast?”
“Absolutely. I was waiting for you.”
He gets up. I notice his shirt is dirty.
“Hey, Dad, that shirt is dirty.”
“You’re right,” he says.
“Let me go find you another one.”
I do. He changes. We leave the apartment. We see someone in the elevator.
“Hi Jack,” the man says.
“Good morning,” my father says in return.
The elevator opens. We get out.
“Have a good day,” he says to the man.
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