Monday, October 31, 2011

Dad is sitting at the kitchen table eating a late dinner.  He is totally ignoring the barking of dogs and ringing of the doorbell making mom walk twice as far as he would need to answer the door and dole out Halloween candy.  They’re both muttering at each other.   I find it interesting how they stubbornly live in two different worlds.

I just got back to town from my ex’s family wedding in Atlanta.  It was glorious and I was very happy to see my former in-laws.  Mom is just over 80 and Dad is closer to 90.  They are both wonderfully fit and active yet dad is being attacked by Parkinson’s.  We all try to ignore it but many times it is hard to ignore the tremendous shaking of his hands. 

He used a cane a couple of times to help with balance.  He also used it to bean a couple of unruly sons and grandsons.  Blamed it on his shaking hands.  He and mom were gifted the Bride’s bouquet for being the longest married couple at the wedding at 57 years.  So, you’ll find it humorous that he talked with his oldest grandson, the groom, about his little black book.

“Jason, he asked, “what have you been doing with your little black book of late?”

“Hey grandpa, not much.  As a matter of fact I haven’t looked at it in a few years,” replied the groom.

“Well, then,” said grandpa, “you’d better give it to me.”

I am a student of life and PMA – positive mental attitude.  I believe attitude is a choice.  My former father-in-law is choosing to make the best of his affliction.  He’s my kind of guy.

My father borrowed my car while I was in Georgia.  Something about gas mileage and an antique auto auction.  I am happy to oblige my dad about anything. 

Late for a meeting the morning after I got home, I jumped into my car and it crunched. I was going to ignore THAT but then I noticed there was dark dried liquid splattered all over the inside of my car.  The inside of my car was a light tan.  I smelled chocolate.  *sigh.*  Crunching between the gas and brake pedals, I proceeded to my destination.

“Oh, daaaad,” I sung upon my arrival back home.  “Have anything you want to share with me about your trip?”

He replied, “Yes, your car got nearly 27 miles to the gallon.”

“Is that good?” I asked.

“Yes, dear, it is.  And I filled it with gas and you have your brother to thank for the oil change.”

And now I feel crappy about calling him out about my car.   BUT, my dead dog Lucille’s Monarch Butterfly totem I keep in my open ash tray is missing.  I cried when I saw it missing.  That feather butterfly is my daily remembrance of my “Ushee”.  I am still emotionally fragile from all my life changes……..

“Dad?  What snack food comes to mind when I say ‘Bandito’?”

“Fritos.”

“Dad?  What kind of weather did you experience on your trip?”

“Oh, it was crisp,” he said.  “Good hot chocolate weather.”

I’m getting somewhere.

“Dad?  Did you have to stop short or swerve from a deer or anything like that while on your trip?”

“Nope,” he said.  “But I am having a terrible time with my Hay Fever this season.”

My dad sneezes in threes.

While I vacuumed up nearly an entire jumbo size bag of Fritos and wiped down sticky hot chocolate from the inside of my car, I found my feather butterfly underneath the seat and placed it back into the ash tray.  “So, Lucille, was it good to road trip with grandpa?”