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A Funny Thing Happened

Time Daughter's Gift AdBased on the time of day my Author Notes are posted, most readers have probably figured out that I usually don’t draft them same day. I get up early, generally between 5 and 5:30 a.m. so I can exercise, then check my Iceberg email and regular websites before the workday starts.

But there isn’t quite enough time to do all that and write even a brief article before I head out the door about 7:45.

So the post you’re reading now was written, as most are, the day before… and it isn’t even the one I’d intended, because a funny thing happened while I was doing some research.

Specifically, the following popped up on my screen:

Time Website Daughter's Gift AdNow, I obviously knew that Iceberg was doing some online advertising this month. I saw the ads before they were rolled out and have been getting updates from time to time on where the most traffic is coming from –– the US and the UK, interestingly enough. However, it still surprised me when, in the split second before I was about to click on the Vitamin E article, my eye caught the big box ad on the right, and the banner ad on the top.

I think my exact reaction was ‘Ah… that’s Dad… on Time magazine’s website.’ I took a screen cap, then the laptop got passed around. At which point I got back to my research.

Next stop, the Toronto Star: ‘Ah, he’s on the TorStar site too.’ Then, The National Post and an Alzheimer’s article by our friend Matt Gurney:

national post big box ad

What makes these unexpected sightings oddly significant for me, is that on this day in 2007 I gave a presentation about my father’s Alzheimer’s journey –– one that I’ve written about before that Kenneth attended.

I was actually considering writing about that presentation for today’s note, so I had located a journal entry about that day:

You stand before a room of people to share a story…
and the emotions that in your day-to-day existence
remain buried
surge to the surface.
Your voice shakes despite your efforts to control it.
And you are reminded…as you steady yourself and begin to speak…
This is the most important story you have to tell.

Those words echoing in my mind, and my father’s image on the screen in front of me… well, they seem linked. Perhaps they are a sign and a reminder wrapped in one –– encouragement to keep telling my dad’s story… and to tell the story that comes after.