A simple question

The question totally baffles me.
"How is your dad doing?"

I start to answer, but then stop, 
mouth open with no sound.
As if punched in the stomach.
But the question is delivered with gentleness.

The intent is heartfelt.

"How is your dad doing?" 
To answer how he is doing,
you somehow need to define what has been taken away.
To describe what has been taken away,
you first need to explain the person he was.

(Are you sure you have time for this answer?
Do you understand what you are asking?)

"How is your dad doing?"
Honestly, I don't know.
I don't know what he thinks or feels.
He can't tell me.
But I can tell you this...

He can still make me laugh
using only his expressions and those goofy eyebrows,
sprung on you when you least expect it.

He can still make me feel loved,
when he looks at me, smiles, nods,
and then blows me a kiss.

He can still teach me what gratitude is,
as he says "thank you"
when I tell him I love him.

He can still remind me to slow down
and be present in this moment,
content with what I have,
even when it doesn't always feel like enough.

"How is your dad doing?"

The question totally baffles me.
But I am so glad you asked.