Thing 1 and She Thing 1 were here for a couple of weeks as they awaited their seasonal housing to open up in Bar Harbor, Maine. It was a lovely visit, and as I mentioned last week, it meant that Thing 1 and I drove to the Cape for a couple of one-day turn-arounds, took care of endless clearing and cleaning and moving of stuff in readiness for rental visitors to the Wellfleet house, and got to walk through the Provincetown place with its new walls and roof. As one is helping pay for the other, that felt relieving and exciting all at the same time.
We also had a couple of all-grandthing dinners with the Geezer while they were here. We don’t get to all be together much anymore, and it was cheering for both me and the old man to see the “boys” and their partners around the table. Family time is precious and more fleeting each year that passes.
This last dinner dad was not seeming himself.
“What’s wrong, Dad?” I asked. “You feeling OK?”
“Oh, you know. I’m winding down,” he said fatalistically.
“Well, snap out of it.” I said, “I’ll tell you when you’re winding down.”
“You know, honey, I’m getting pretty damned old.”
“Look, dad,” I said, “Don’t mess around with the rule.”
Thing 1 looked at us quizzically.
“You remember the rule, right?”
My father nodded.
“Well tell your grandson.”
Dad looked at the Thing.
“Only she’s allowed to kill me.”
This rule has been around for quite a number of years, but it really came in handy in 2018, when dad had a hip replaced and some doctor screwed something up. I arrived at his room for a visit just in time to see what I was pretty sure was him about to have a seizure. Almost nothing on earth is my first rodeo, and I’d seen this ride before. A nurse was in the room adjusting something, and I pointed this out to her.
“I know you think you see seizure-like activity,” she said to me in a condescending tone, “but he’s just tired.”
At which point my father projectile vomited across her standing lap and went into a pretty dramatic “seizure-like” seizure.
His heart rate dropped to nineteen right after she rolled him on his side. That’s considered coding, so roughly twenty people in white coats came rushing in and started doing things to and around him.
I stood back from the foot of the bed and watched my father. He was very out of it to say the least. He was gray and shaking and unable to really focus or communicate. I was afraid he’d had a stroke. At one point I caught his eye through all the outstretched arms and coats and tubes.
“Do you remember the rule?” I said to him.
He nodded.
“Wait, wait, wait,” said a very lovely, earnest resident, “The patient has something to say! What is it, sir? Is there something you want us to know?”
My father slowly raised his trembling arm, extended his index finger, pointed it at me and said weakly, “Only… she’s… allowed… to kill me.”
At which point he dissolved into a choking fit of laughter, started coughing, and cratered his heart rate again, sending the monitors into a cacophony of alarms and beeps and buzzes, and the residents and nurses into a flurry of frantic activity.
But I knew he was OK.
Anyway, I stopped by Dad’s place today to check on him. He was sitting in the dark watching TV, his helper on the couch next to him.
“That’s enough of this,” I declared. “It’s beautiful out, and you’re sitting in here like a mushroom. Open the shades and the windows. You need to go outside when it’s nice out.”
“I do!” said my father.
“Bullshit,” I said, “Have you been outside today?”
“No,” he said. He’s ninety-three and he still looks like a seven year-old when he’s caught lying. Sheepish, grinning, and utterly without remorse.
“Look,” I said, pointing to his helper, “This guy’s probably a mandated reporter, so don’t make me beat you in front of him. Get your ass outside.”
As I left they were making their way to the outdoor garden and terrace.
Rules are rules. Besides, we’ve got to enjoy the sunshine while we can.
Morning Teasitisms
The entire growing, picking, and making of tea seems so improbable to me, especially when I think about the sheer volume of it that’s consumed.
Of my many weird hobbies, watching tea-making videos is one. I ran across this one today, and the combination of old- and new-world technology and technique is interesting to see. And obviously made me want some tea.
I love the dialogue here and the rapport that you and your father have. Gotta enjoy the sunshine while you can!
Oh, Marjie, I love "the rule." I love your Dad and the depth of love you have for each other.