in his backyard haven

Saturday, 9 June 2012

Saturday Afternoon

We've got Pandora radio going on for Dad right now. Old hits from Glen Miller and Dick Gilroy are filling the house, especially since we have a video monitor in the kitchen.  We can hear and see him in his train room.

The dining table is extended like a Thanksgiving day and half of it is set up with laptops as if we were in some sort of computer lab. Blogging and emailing and Face-booking the world beyond this original family of seven.

The kitchen island is cleaned every other hour and even then so, every other hour it is filled with the good wishes of people who want to seem to express themselves through food. Carrot cake cupcakes just arrived. They smell great. I long for a stick of celery, some peanut butter and a hot cup of tea.

Dad is stable today. He can still recognize visitors. He sleeps the entire time - waking only if we ask him to open up for some water or Ensure or medications.

I've seen him smile several times today. He's talked about strange things. I like to keep those strange conversations going. Katie says I'm psyching him out. I say, "Why pull him back from where he's going? Help him along the way."

At one point Dad said, "I thought those holes on the ceiling were leaves. They're not." [Actually, they are knots in the wood].
Apparently Dad used to joke that Grandma Dorothy went to heaven through those holes. Wanting to avoid that reminder, I said to him, "No dad, those are caves on the train track, going round the curve through the Colorado mountains. Ride 'em dad. Ride on through."

Maybe that's good of me, maybe not. I guess if I were in his position, I wouldn't want people dragging my coat tails once I'd made up my mind to take a trip.

So, with that I plan to head off for a nap soon. Just one more story from the past for today. Coming up next.

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