Many of you know that I moved my 83 year old Dad in with me because of the situation with my addict brother (see many, many, many previous posts from the last couple of years). Anyway, it's been an interesting situation for me, especially since I'm used to living by myself. It's odd how we, as children, become the parents to our parents; something that I still have yet to get used to. Throughout my day, I see so many instances that take me back to my childhood when my Dad would scold me for leaving the milk out... or making a mess... or leaving the window open when it rains... taking my shoes off before walking on the rug... or getting me to take the garbage out (the list goes on and on). And now, it's the reverse... it's me making sure that my Dad does all those things. I have to keep on him... and he has a child-like sense of accomplishment when he does something that I don't have to remind him of... he points it out to me. It's really kind of cute.
Some of my most vivid memories growing up with my Dad were...
- the time he took me to his train yard and let me drive a train
- sitting at the attic window (which had a view of the top of the street) with our family dog, Lucky... waiting for my Dad to come down the street.
- coming home late at night as a teen with him sitting in his chair asleep (waking up, telling me he was only resting his eyes) and I'd catch the end of some black and white movie with him (he turned me on to Sunset Boulevard (my favorite movie now)).
- how he and I would go out in the ocean in Myrtle Beach and collect sand dollars, and I would go sell them on the beach.
- the time that I backed the car into the rock wall and poked a hole in the fender and got the car stuck and then hid under the cellar steps for 6 hours. Or sitting with him in the driveway while he worked on the car (me pounding the cement with his hammer and him getting mad).
- when my Mom passed and we needed to order flowers from the place that I always got flowers from (Max and Gayles) and he called it 'Massengils' (the douche company).
- when he was helping me move for the 20th time... he said to me "so, do you think this will be the last move?"... and I said 'probably not'... and that was ok with him. While I don't think he understands what possesses me to do some of the things that I do, he supports my crazy unconditionally.
- him walking up the sidewalk on my 12th birthday with my Easy-Bake Oven (God, how did they not know I was gay?). I can still remember how I lit up watching him come up the sidewalk... with a grin on my face a mile wide.
My Dad was always physically strong as well as very handy at fixing anything. It's hard to see him now... aging... his cognitive skills not as sharp... he can't figure things out things like he used to... his strength is gone... he can't hear so well... he's having some back problems... he sits so much. It breaks my heart and sometimes my spirit to see him slow down... much like the effects of kryptonite on Superman, so is aging on my super hero. Yes, these years are precious... and things happen for a reason. I joke about his toast crumbs... and his dirty fingerprints here and there... but I wouldn't trade this time for anything. There's not a day that goes by that I don't think... 'is this going to be the day?' Being a person of habit, all it takes is him being 15 minutes late for me to start worrying about something happening to him, because then I'll be on my own.... and even though I take care of everything now... I'd really have to be an adult. As long as my Daddy is around... I don't have to fully grow up.
We have everything we need, so I like to get him a card and get him some scratch-off lottery tickets to put in the envelope. It gives him something to do and, who knows, he may win something big (my retirement as well)... so it's a win-win situation. When he opened the envelope and saw the tickets, he lit up. That's his Easy-Bake Oven.
Anyone remember this show?
What a beautiful post! You've got so many wonderful memories and you've brought them to life for us. You're a lucky guy, and so is your Dad!
ReplyDeleteWhat an amazing, loving tribute to your Dad. Sweet! He is very fortunate now to have such a devoted son looking after him.
ReplyDeleteSentimentality aside ... YOU GOT AN EASY-BAKE OVEN WHEN YOU WERE 12?? I nearly fell off the couch... laughed till the tears came. That is too funny!!
This is an excellent post. I had tears in my eyes because I wish my relationship with my dad had been half as good.
ReplyDeleteThis and many other posts are the reasons I follow your blog...thank you.
saludos,
raulito
Is it so wrong for me to fall in love with a person over the internet? Lovely post.
ReplyDeleteYou are blessed, and I am happy for you.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful post! I didn't have any kind of a relationship with my dad unfortunately.
ReplyDeleteMy sis got the Easy-Bake. I was more thrilled than her! :)
This is one of the most heart-touching posts from you that I have ever read. Ten minutes later I am still smiling and holding back tears. To see you write with such love for your Father, is a precious thing. Clearly, it is mutual.
ReplyDeleteI can say that just having met him once and spending only a brief period of time with him, I fell instantly in love.
Even though age takes a toll on our parents, our memories of them, if we are lucky, tend to age like a fine wine. Most times we find ourselves only opening the bottle on special occassions such as this; thank you for sharing a glass.
What a loving tribute to your dad! You're fortunate to have such good memories to reflect upon.
ReplyDeleteDo not know how BUT I follow your blog. 59 year old in a relationship for 35 years and still so in love. Live both in Texas and Canada.
ReplyDeleteYou are a nice "kid" and I am proud of you. So nice to see you taking care of your dad.
I love my Dad very much and treasure the relationship even more as an adult than I did when I lived at home with him.
ReplyDeleteLoved your post.
Nice David, nice. Treasure every moment with your Dad. Too soon they're gone.
ReplyDeleteWow, David.......what a fantastically sweet tribute to your dad. You are such a good son - I remember your relationship with him being really special. You are fortunate to still have him with you.....give him a big squeeze for me.
ReplyDeletethat was very touching; thank you for sharing it. It was lovely!
ReplyDeleteDavid, you are so lucky to have him and he is lucky to have you. A beautiful recollection and a very touching tribute to him. I know it must be hard to watch him falter, but at least you are there for him. You won't be able to look back and wonder why you weren't there for him.
ReplyDelete