Observations on quality time with my 84 year old father, day – 6
*He called me this evening and I even answered. Seems reality is once again knocking at his door and forcing its way in:
Dad – “Curt, the bank called and they’re aware that mother has died. They want a copy of the death certificate. Do you have it?
Note that I gave him a certified copy the day before I left and told him not to lose it
Me – “Dad, remember I gave you a copy before I left? It’s to the left of the computer keyboard.”
Dad – “Hmm, let me look.”
Me – “Dad, look in the envelope where the power of attorney docs are. It’s blue and while and official looking.”
Dad – “Wait a minute. Let me see if I can find it. Wait, here’s the envelope. Amazing, it’s there!”
Will wonders never cease?
*My wife keeps giving me these verbal scripts to use while talking to him.
“Hon, I’ve been very clear with him about what to do. You act as if we’re dealing with a rational person.”
*My dad was a pretty straight laced guy. He always wore the same shoes to work (had multiple pairs) and wasn’t into getting with the 60’s. In the early 70’s though, he had surgery for some torn up body part. He was always tearing something: elbows, multiple hernias, etc. He ended up in a hospital where he was one of the few white people. When he got home, all of a sudden he liked dancing to modern music. Before that he only liked latin music. Now he liked black music. “I was the only white guy in there, and the black patients were always putting on music and dancing. I was having surgery the next day and thought about it: I may be dead tomorrow. I might as well have some fun.” He started dancing with them. “They called me ‘Stepper’.” Now he wore bell bottoms and Huckapoo shirts and watched Soul Train on Saturday mornings. He loved “Papa Was a Rolling Stone.” I doubt he ever listened to the lyrics. Then again, maybe Stepper did?
© Curt Weiss 2014