It's Personal

Mom, “You’ve got to get Wi-Fi.”

“I don’t need Wi-Fi.  I’m online just fine.”

“But you can only work in here, or drag a cord along with you.”  (I was seated at the drafting table in my activity room.   Never would the room be called an office.  It was a place where I handled many interests and projects, not of an ‘office’ ilk.  It was my ‘activity room’.)

“Darin, it doesn’t matter.  The laptop’s easy to carry; the cord does fine.  I don’t need the confusion of Wi-Fi.   I’ll keep things simple.”

He let me do my thing for perhaps a year or more, until July 29^th, 2011.  That Friday evening I answered the front door bell chime for Darin to practically push in, announcing, “I’ve come to hook you up to Wi-Fi."  He had been at his office all day.  He looked pale.  He looked tired.  His wife and daughters stood behind him with their apologetic “we couldn’t stop him, he’s determined” look.

Darin with a NETGEAR box under his arm rushed back to my activity room.

I’ve had constant, wonderful Wi-Fi since that evening.

With thanksgiving for his life, I’ve written to celebrate

my son on today’s 54th anniversary of his birth.

    

                                           John Darin Stith

                      December 2, 1961 – September 14, 2011