Courage at Twilight: Evil Law Mower

#2.  I had planned to move in with Mom and Dad, if need be, in about a year, after my lease expired.  But the evil lawn mower incident convinced me to move immediately.  Dad loves his lawn: a source of pride and joy and exercise.  Monthly fertilizer has yielded a deep emerald green turf, which Dad cuts twice a week on his riding mower.  Plus: string trimming, driveway edging, shrub shaping, limb pruning, and dandelion digging—spread throughout the week in manageable increments.  The push mower is for the corners the riding mower won’t reach.  When Dad was pushing the mower downhill toward the garage one day, it ran away from him and dumped him on the concrete driveway.  Providentially, Dad broke no bones.  I knew that a broken hip or leg, or a blow to the head, could have been the beginning of the end, with long-term convalescence away from home.  When they told me what had happened, I received a sudden conviction: now was the time—immediately—to move in with Mom and Dad and do what I could to keep them in their home for the remainder of their days (may they be long).

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