Seventy Two

It's my Dad's birthday today.  Seventy-two.  We are chalking this one up as an accomplishment of the best sort since there were many times this fall and winter when we just weren't sure he would be celebrating another one.

He has done remarkably well since being home.  Thank goodness for $150 a day drugs like Zyvox.  So far, he has not had any more bouts with the infection in and around his liver and gallbladder and we can only hope that this drug was and is strong enough to get it out of his system.  All his liver enzymes and blood counts have been normal, if not better than they were when he was first hospitalized this fall.  It really is amazing.  Praise God!

Dad spends a lot of time in his wheelchair now.  It seems like his sense of balance is way off, yet he is strong enough to transfer easily from wheelchair to lift chair or to bed or whatever.  The wheelchair seems to be giving him back some of his independence in a weird way.  He can get to the kitchen fairly easy and the other day I even caught him folding laundry.  Better stop that Dad or I will parentnap you and take you over to my house. 

My brothers, my aunts, some family friends and I have been taking turns helping Dad with his meals while mom is at work.  So on Tuesdays and Thursdays, Dad and I have a "lunch date". We don't always have a lot to say.  I usually read him a few snippets from the paper, we discuss the weather, and watch a little Family Feud. We watched all the hype during the week of the Masters until we were both up to our eyeballs in Tiger Woods. (Yay Phil!) Then we eat and clean up and usually he takes a nap in his room and I take a little snooze on the couch.  Last Thursday I hung a new chandelier for mom in the dining room and he helped me get the ceiling fan down.  It's a lot easier handing the parts to someone rather than having to climb up and down all by yourself.  We felt like we actually got something accomplished that day, but it's good to be lazy too.  I enjoy spending time with him and will always treasure these simple little things we do together.

I would like to tell you I would have taken the time to do this for my parents whether they needed me to or not.  I'm not sure I would have.  My intentions would have been good.  My heart would be in the right place, all that stuff.  It's not that I don't care about and love my parents, because I most definitely do.  Seems like the busyness in our lives just gets in the way of the things that are most important.  Like family.  Like watching golf with your dad.  Like celebrating seventy-second birthdays.  Like seeing your kids snuggled into your Dad's lap.  It's all good.  Love you Dad. See you Tuesday.