The Importance of Smiles

My father ate an apple slice from the Tupperware my mom had brought. He'd read through the pamphlet for delife with more curiosity than I expected. On the good days, he would smile and laugh and pretend to be shocked when mother asked why he wasn't eating the awful hospital food. The bad days, his mouth would tighten into a straight quivering line and he would just stare at the muted television our entire visit.