My father.

Dad has glaucoma. Well, he's had it for a while now. I remember when I was finishing my certification he would ask me about the circle of light around the street light or around the moon. I couldn't see it. Turns out it was happening then.

Because of this he almost went blind. One eye really doesn't do much to help his sight by now. The other, the good eye, well, that one became infected last week. He almost went blind again.

When this first happened I was angry, I was furious. My father, who left everything behind in Cuba, who (even though college educated) could not continue his studies here because his studies didn't count, and ended working warehouses and such so that he could support his family, was going blind. What a fracking rotten joke.

This man has pride, real pride, not the silly thing that passes for pride today ... the "I am better than you" bravado that some men have. This man who never let his pride rise above who he was. This man who has a quiet and confident faith that will turn out as it should, this man was going blind. He deserved a good, relaxing and joy filled retirement damn it!

Things did eventually get better. He got eye sight, mostly on one eye, and after cataract surgery he could se better than most. He was a happy man ... he could read his newspapers in peace, he could read his books and watch his TV. You could feel his joy.

My father is quiet, reserved, full of opinions, and full of questions when it comes to this new technology. My father wants to know what happened in the world every day, he reads newspapers from all over the Latin American world. Ask him about what's going on ... go on, ask him ... he will tell you. He never lords his knowledge over you, and he never makes you feel inferior. He knows who he is, and he knows who you are.

My father had a trust and confidence in me that helped me have a trust and confidence in me few could have. He knew what I could do, he knew what I should do, he allowed me the freedom to choose, to make mistakes, to learn by those mistakes and to get up and go on.

I remember when it first hit me how he does things. I was in college. I was talking with dad about school, growing up and he mentioned Colegio San José, in Río Piedras, Puerto Rico. I went there for ninth grade. It was an all boys private school ran by the Holy Cross Brothers.

It was a unique experience to go there. Oh, I got bullied as usual (was used to it by then) but I also made some friends. Anyhow, one thing I did learn about was sex. I never realized how much porn there could be in a Catholic school. Then again, it WAS an all boys school.

So, back to the conversation about school. My father kept going on about the ceremonies there, the rosary we prayed in the courtyard as a school once ... and me, being my usual college arrogant punk, decide to say "yea, but dad, did you know that I found out about porn there? Do you know how much there was?" He looked at me and said "Yeah, I knew you were ready to face that one." And let it go at that.

Shocked? Yup. Surprised? Yup. A better person from the whole ninth grade experience? Absolutely. My father had confidence in me, that I would rise above it all. Wow. Still amazes me today.

Once, when I was a manipulating little punk (I've always been a punk, by the way), he knew I was trying to get him and mom divided on something I wanted. Candy or some other sort of stupid thing. Anyhow, he looked at me in the eyes and quietly informed me that I could never be more important to him than my mom, that she came first. And I understood. He loves me, Oh does he love me. I also understood, mom is the light of his life and I could never get between them.

I told that to a friend once. She said it was horrible. I said it made me so secure in my place, in my life, in my family. It made me feel reassured, confident. I don't know how or why. I can't explain but it just did.

My father is kind of like Yoda to me sometimes. He has a confident faith that all will happen as it should and we'll deal with it then. In retrospective I can see that he was the Ying to my mom's panicky Yang. When mom became distressed about things going bad, about debts, about whatever, dad was there quietly anchoring the ship so things would be fine. If it hadn't been for him, I think we would have fallen apart some days.

Oh, that last one opens up more memories and things. But this is long enough already.

Funny, this was going to be about mom and dad and their relationship right now. Got me sidetracked on dad.

My father.

The man I could only wish I could be.

Eye troubles

About a week os so ago my father got Endophthalmitis. It is an infection IN the eye. He could have easily lost his eye. The first 24 hours were crucial. Eyedrops and antibiotics every hour, continued for 24 hours. Then more of the same after visiting the doctor for an update. Surgery was always an option.

Saving the eye was the key here. Worry about the vision later. Save the eye.

Its been a week of praying, meds, doctor visits . . . crazy. Props go to my sister who has been taking them everywhere for the last week and making sure all was going well.

So I enter into the picture. According to mom, dad is is better spirits now. He seems to be grateful that I am here.

Dad lately gives me these hugs that I can only interpret as "this may be the last hug" hug. I understand. I do.

I hate it.

I do.

As I've mentioned before, their mortality reflects on my mortality which drives me crazy. Never been a fan of death. Not even when young. The finality of it all would hit me, heart rate would go up, and I'd have to walk around the house in the middle of the night to calm down or get it out of my mind.

Anyway, we went to the doctor today. As we are driving, mom is wondering why I'm not using the GPS in my phone.

"Where's your british girl?"

The accent on my GPS is a female that I can only describe as a Marilyn Monroe type.

"I know where I'm going"

OK, first the news. Dad is doing fine, everything seems to be working out. The infection is coming down. He still "sees" floaties in his eyes ... like submarines, he calls them ... but much better. Now the meds come down to every three hours.

His left eye has compensated to the point that he can actually see better out of that eye. His right eye, is improving.

Smiles all around.

Today's funny comes courtesy of dad, who manages to see very little.

On our way to the next stop, some eye glass place, mom thought we were lost. "Marilyn" was taking us, she knew.

Mom starts the funny: "This doesn't seem right"

Me, "What do you mean?"

Mom, "I don't remember this"

Dad, "Yes, this is right, it looks right"

Picture dad, in the back seat, eyes closed, when he says that.

Its a regular sitcom around here.

Its hard to adjust to coming every so often to take care or visit or hang out or go shopping, to what my sister does ... every day. She's quite the saint for that in my eyes.

This one's for you sis.

Enjoy your time off.

Love ya.

Conversational fun

We went shopping today.

Look around here. Look around there.

The fun began when I had my GPS on my iPhone on so I could find the stores.

Let me get you started by letting you know, the voice that I have on my GPS app is female and British. Lovely voice. I think it goes back to my crush on Mary Poppins.

But that's a whole other therapy.

At times there was no sound.

Dad: "She's awful quiet"
Me: "Its a GPS app dad. Not a conversation one"
Dad: "Would be nice if she played some music"
Me: (Smart ass as always) "Would you like her to ask you about your day, the weather, your grandchildren?"
Dad: "Just saying, some music would be good"
GPS: "At the next juncture turn right"
Dad: "Welcome back"

Yes, I did roll my eyes.

One little known fact about mom is that when she gets nervous, for whatever reason, she tends to talk.

And talk.

A lot.

Nervous talk.

Mom: "Does she know where we are going?"
Me: "Yes, I told it where I wanted to go"
Mom: "Seems awful far"
Me: "Trust the technology"
Mom: "That sign said Tulsa. You sure we aren't going to Tulsa"
Me: "Is there a Macy's in Tulsa?"
Mom: "I don't know"
Me: "Relax"
Mom: "It just seems far"

When we finally got to where we had been headed all along. Well, it just suddenly became amazing, and what a great thing and how wonderful that we can do this.

Yeah, I rolled my eyes.

The rest of the day, and it seemed like a long day, went off, well, somewhat acceptably.

Shopping has always been an experience with mom. Specially if I find something I want but it may not be the right shade of some color or another that may or may not look good on me or whatever.

You'd think I would know to keep my mouth shut.

Yeah . . . not so much.

And, as always, some things that just seem to happen...
Dad: "How can I get that service?"
Me: "Its an app dad. Its on my iPhone"
Dad: "Can I get it for mine?"
Me: "Why?"
remember, dad doesn't drive, mom doesn't drive and the old lady that drives them doesn't pay attention half the time...even when she drives...SPECIALLY when she drives.

Yup, eye rolling...yup.

On the way back this one really made me laugh.

Dad: "Been to New Orleans since the hurricane?"
Me: "Wouldn't I have told you if I did go?"
Dad: "Oh, just wondering"

Yeah, I rolled my eyes.

Honestly.

Its just weird sometimes.

But that's a whole other therapy.

More old age "achaques"

Today we took dad to the emergency room. X rays showed Pneumonia. He ran out of inhaler, not that he even realized it because he kept using the empty case. So the doctor prescribed some meds and some inhaler like device to help him clear out his lungs. He also has swimmer's ear. Hell if I know how he got it.

Mom seems to be doing well. Nothing major with her, just slower than usual, and her knees hurt and she gets tired easily . . . achaques strike again.

Dad just doesn't seem to be paying attention to what's going on. He has been having a hard time breathing but kept saying he was fine, just fine. He doesn't want to face it. He seems to think that he'll get better soon.

I keep seeing them and I keep seeing me.

Me in some years but me.

Me in the future.

Still me.

Their house has spots that are clean and perfect and some that have some sort of life growing on it (like the bathroom windows).

Yeah, got that at my place. Hey! Don't judge. I am opening my soul here.

I wonder just how much of these "achaques" (see an earlier post on this) can be prevented . . . how much is inevitable . . . and how much is just part and parcel of old age.

Its hard to see those formerly strong people that guided your life, and helped you along, and even punished you, getting older and frailer.

Its hard to see the strong dad who was up for anything and working hard at all he did become a small old man who emotionally hugs you every time he sees you.

Its hard to see a strong willed mom who is still working hard at what she loves (teaching) and who presented you with so much extras in your life, become an old woman who can't stop saying your name because she is so grateful to have you around.

Part of me feels comfort.

Part of me feels sadness.

Part of me is just grateful to have them in my life this long.

No point to this. Merely sharing. Merely contributing some thoughts.

Share yours with me, will ya?

I'm tired

I came up over the Easter weekend, limited time, but I made sure to fly since the train would have eaten up a lot of valuable and possible family time.

Just once . . . just once . . . I would like a weekend or a visit without having to run errands, or pay a bill, or renew some license for the car. I joked about being Tim the tool man Taylor, but I am that and more.

The water filter is wrong. See, they don't tighten it up, so it leaks. So they need to get rid of it. Besides, I'm told, it needs a new filter. No, I explain, we got a new one in it last time I was here.

Well, we just need to get rid of this one and get another one that works.

Hell, I'll take this one back with me! I fracking bought it.

Then . . .

Today, after Service, I find out that we need to renew the license plate tags because they have expired. Why couldn't they do it earlier? Well, the proof of insurance just came in. No, the proof of insurance starts next month, this month's you have had. Dad doesn't read the dates.

So, why not ask their daughter, who lives ten minutes away, for help. Oh, she's too busy. Michael is too busy. She doesn't have the car.

Honestly, I am tired of having everything wait for me to get here so it can get done.

I am not the savior.
I am not the rescuer.
I am not The One.

I want a weekend just visiting and enjoying, not traveling, covering, buying, renewing, fixing, repairing . . . and other such ings.

Is this what getting old is all about? Parents who are so needy they don't see they have other options? Do they not see what's going on?

If it weren't for the fact that my sister and I talk quite a bit and catch up and tell each other what's happened with mom and dad, I think that it would be different. I don't think mom realizes it but she has been playing favorites for a while now.

Its pissing me off.

Yeah, I'm venting, I'm bitching . . . get over it.

So they lend the car to a friend, someone they know. A car that is NOT in their name, they gave it to me, but they lend it away. They called before someone else needed it, but not this time.

Did they check to see if they had insurance? I wonder.

Did they check to see if MY insurance covered it? No.

Did they explain how the alarm works? Doubtful.

So their friend's wife goes somewhere. The car alarm goes off.

What did she do? She had he alarm ripped off. Its sitting in the back seat of the car right now.

What good is it now? A car alarm that doesn't make noise?

Help.

I'm stuck in loony-ville.