A Wallet Full of Hundreds

I took exit 99 that day. I was only fifty miles from home and had two hundred more to go to see my parents. They were both in poor health and I made the trip as often as I could. It was difficult watching both parents struggle with health issues. My father had severely scarred lungs from working at his trade and my mother was on regular dialysis as diabetes had injured her kidneys. Dad had been hospitalized on several occasions. They were on multiple medications and treatments. They were also broke with a stack of medical bills mounting and I knew they were struggling on oh so many levels. They lived simply and had downsized over and over again as their health declined. They were now being visited by hospice and in a small two bedroom assisted living facility apartment. It was difficult to watch them sell all that they could to keep the collectors away. I never stopped at the casino, but that day I was beckoned with a pressing feeling to go. I pulled my car over and actually said a prayer to be able to win some money to help them. Foolish, I thought. I justified my gambling by telling God it wasn't for "Me" after all. After parking and walking through the casino's doors, I slipped into a world that was out of my comfort zone. The smoke smell was everywhere. Cigarettes butts could be seen in many ash trays. This was not my world by any means. I played a few games, after getting some much-needed instruction on how to play the machines. I chatted with people sitting near me and before long I felt I had made a mistake, for I was losing money. I played my last five, slipping dollars into a penny machine and went on a journey with a man gathering valuable stones and kept winning small amounts, enough to place a "max bet" and my machine went crazy; blaring bells and whistles and I had no idea what was happening. The noise seemed all around me. A curious lady leaned over my shoulder and shouted, "You won big"! She told me how to cash my fourteen hundred and forty-four dollars out and pointed me to the cashier's window. I asked for my winnings in one-hundred-dollar bills. I was in shock as I left the casino. I was filled with enthusiasm and could hardly drive fast enough to get to Portland. My wallet was full of bills, and I could hardly wait to give them to my dad. I arrived in Portland to find that my mom was struggling with her dialysis treatments and dad was requiring more oxygen. I took them out to lunch before heading back home. As I left, I placed the casino bills in my dad's hand. He told me he couldn't accept them. I told him he could. The next trip I made to Portland was the same as the first; even the same heart-felt prayer. When I kept winning on an "Alladin" machine I couldn't believe my luck as I won big, and on another penny machine. I won thirteen hundred and thirty-three dollars. It was again on a penny machine. My son thought I was just joking but I had the receipt from the casino taking out the taxes for me. Once again, my dad said he couldn't accept the money, but I stuffed the hundreds in his wallet for him. We went out to lunch before I made the long trip home.

Sounds like a tall tale I know but my story does not end there for yet another trip I was shooting down planes on a top gun machine and won three hundred and fifty dollars. On that day the machines were not printing off tickets to take to the cashier, so I stayed in my seat waiting to be cashed out. It was taking forever so I decided to slide over to the top gun machine next to the one I had just won on. I place my leg over the seat of the winning machine so no one to take my winnings and decided to play and shot down three hundred and fifty more dollars' worth of fighter planes and left that day with seven crisp bills.

Each time I left the casino with more cash for my dad and each time we both hugged and wiped away tears. Each time we all went out for lunch. My mother passed away just two weeks before my dad. Her death was not expected so soon but she got an infection while at the hospital for a dialysis treatment and she passed away suddenly. I was traveling back from Portland to southern Oregon after my mom's memorial service, when my phone rang. My dad said he was dying and knew his time was near and could I please come back to be with him. I was a nurse and knew that patients often knew when their time was near. I turned around and drove back to my dad. It was indeed true, and he was correct. He passed away shortly after I arrived at his home.

My sister and brother were there as dad left for a much better world. We were able to spend the day remembering all that he had done for us. He was such a wonderful man and a wonderful Father. We looked over the material remainders of what had been his world, and each chose what we held dear. My brother gathered up dad's valuables and I told him to please hand me dad's wallet. It was not a surprise to find a few one-hundred-dollar bills tucked safely inside. This time my dad took us to lunch.

I was to travel to Portland to see my brother and sister on occasion, and yes, I occasionally stopped at the same casino. I never did pray again for money for I have always been blessed enough to not want to, and my winnings never came to even one hundred dollars again.