Adventures

 When I was a little kid, my dad would take us on adventures. I imagine he was nervous and excited all at the same time. Him not knowing how the adventure would go, whether it would be fun or if we would hate it. But when I think back, I realize some of my fondest memories are from those adventures.

My first ever adventure was when I was 2. I do not remember this adventure, but from the stories I have heard over the years, it was quite the adventure…one that would be frowned upon in today’s society. Imagine me being 2 years old, wearing bib overalls, and standing on a bucket seat of my dads pick up truck. My little arm around his neck while eating cracklins as he handed them to me.  I imagine the windows down, country music playing in the background, and the smell of old spice and leather seats. I imagine dad being very careful going around corners, but making it seem like we were driving Indy cars…telling me to “hold on, Nes! “I imagine mom standing in the driveway waving us off for our morning of fishing, feeling nervous.   She would be yelling to my dad as we drove away to watch me near the water. But I can’t help but think she was also feeling lucky. Lucky to have a husband who loved his little girl with all his heart knowing he would be the first one in the river if she were to fall in.

Throughout my life, dad has taken me on many adventures from rattlesnake roundups and trips up Mt. Saint Helen’s, to salmon fishing in the mountains to snipe hunts on our many camping trips. I am sure that every adventure began with the hope of memories being made. But also, with fear of the unknown. This week was no different for me.

I am not a fan of my dad being in the nursing home. It is no secret, everyone that knows me is aware that I am not happy about it. I think about dad as if he doesn’t have Alzheimer’s disease. I imagine he is wondering all day where we are at and why he is there. I think he understands he is somewhere other than home. I think that he is sad and feeling abandoned my us. And then I witness myself just how bad the disease is taking him away.

Dennis, the boys, and I picked dad up to take him out for pizza. I walked in the dining area and found dad sitting with my favorite ladies getting ready to eat. He hadn’t been served his food yet, so I asked him if he wanted to go and get pizza. He was very confused. I told him the boys were in the car waiting for us and we had “reservations” to get pizza. 25 minutes later with the help of a few aides, dad was buckled in tight and ready to go.

He hadn’t been out of the nursing home in over 6 weeks. I was excited to see if he acted different. I was scared he would hate it and it would make him upset. I kept watching his face for any changes. All I got was a blank stare. Once inside the restaurant, he seemed a little more relaxed. The waiter brought over parmesan cheese and hot pepper flakes. Dennis got us our root beers, and the boys brought us over plates, silverware, and napkins. It wasn’t long before dad was pouring the cheese and pepper flakes onto his plate. I didn’t say anything, just watched. He then took his root beer and poured some onto his plate and stirred the concoction all together and started eating. We all laughed when dad told us it was a little too hot for his liking. I advised he might want to wait for the bread sticks to dip in the flakes before he continued. The bread sticks arrived, and dad ate one. When he was finished, he folded up his napkin into a shape of a bread stick, dipped it in the cheese and started eating it. It wasn’t long before he realized it wasn’t a bread stick. After dad devoured two small corners of the pizza, he told us he was stuffed.

As soon as dad got into the car, he looked at me and said, “where are we going for ice cream?” So of course, our adventure had one more stop. We stopped off at a drive in and got vanilla scoops in cups. We ate in silence. I wanted to cry because I wondered if that was the last time I would ever eat ice cream with my dad. I wondered if this adventure was uncomfortable for him. But then a silver lining hit me, and I realized I was having ice cream with my dad right then. There was no reason to think about the future. I needed to be present in the now. We finished up our ice cream and drove away. I dreaded taking him back to the nursing home. But when one of the nurses asked him how dinner was, he reported it was good and he also got some ice cream!