Penmanship - or the Lack Thereof

Penmanship – or the Lack Thereof

Noel Laflin

May 1, 2018

In reviewing old letters written by my folks, I noted to my sister what fine penmanship they both had – something she inherited, but something that my brother and I did not, sadly.

Case in point: I returned home late from work one evening – some forty two years ago – and found my folks’ house dark and empty.

There was a hastily scribbled note on the kitchen table – left there by my brother, which was unusual as he did not live there any longer.

Now, Bobby’s handwriting rivals that of any doctor, but on this occasion it was even worse.

However, what I could make out was that there had been an accident at woodshop – something my dad and brother attended twice a week at the local high school – and that they’d taken my dad to the hospital.

There was more to that note, but I’ll be damned if I could make it out. So there I was, in the dark as to both the nature of the accident as well as to which hospital they’d taken him. I assumed my mom had gone along as well. That was probably in the note too.

Knowing my dad, he probably resisted wanting to go to the hospital, and was thus driven home. My mom must have talked sense into him at that point. Again, these were all speculations on my part, but it accounted for my brother having been at the house. I thought I was getting somewhere.

I eventually found my mother and brother in the waiting room of the third hospital I visited that night. The doctor was just explaining to them, via x-rays, how the surgery to my father’s shattered wrist had gone. It seems a chopping block had gotten stuck in a wood-planer, kicked itself free and then smashed into my dad’s right arm. He would be setting off metal detectors for the rest of his life, but he was mending well, the surgeon assured us.

I was happy with the outcome, but vexed with my brother of course.

However, I should have known straight off which hospital he’d go to in a situation like this, as it was the same one he’d driven me to eight years earlier after I’d broken my leg.

Thus, despite his penmanship, he – like a doctor - is still a good guy to have around in an emergency.