Daily chores

 

I brought in photo albums of the boys to look at with dad. I hadn’t tried this before, so I thought maybe it would be good for him. Boy was I wrong. Dad was enjoying his coffee and apple cider donut I had brought him, when I took the albums from my bag. I opened it and said “Look dad, here is when Myles was born.” He looked, but seemed to be more interested in the donut. I skipped through some pages until I came to a photo of the boys together. I pointed out that this was when Myles met his baby brother Will. Dad burst into tears. “Dad, why are you crying?” He wiped away his tears and said because “I miss that I am not there.” Then I burst out into tears. I had no words, felt like an ass for bringing in something that made him sad, and quickly put the albums back into my bag.



Dad finished his donut. He turned himself in his chair and started talking to a few others in the room. He introduced me as his sister and then told them “Don’t listen to what she says, she talks too fast.” I chuckled. Dad got up out of his chair, folded up the table cloth, placed his wadded up napkin underneath it, and then placed the table cloth back over the table leaving a little mountain of napkin. Again I chuckled, wondering why he did this. He asked me if I was ready and I told him I was. I asked him where we were off too and he said something about needing to take care of some money. I gladly went with him, excited to see what adventures awaited me.



We first walked down the hallway. We didn’t get far before we turned around and headed back the same way we just came from. Once we got to the sitting/family room, dad attempted to open a closet door that was locked. He tried several turns of the knob trying to open it with no luck. I asked him what was in there and he told me the choir was in their singing. I told him we were too late and they locked us out. He shrugged and pointed to a chair and told me to sit. I did as I was told. He walked over to the couch and sat. He was pretty talkative this visit which was a breath of fresh air since the last few weeks was hard to get him to talk much at all. He tried to talk to a woman sitting next to him but she does not speak. I felt bad for him because he kept asking her about her new machine (aka…her walker) and she would just look at him. I tried to intervene a little and change the subject. There was a wall quote on the wall behind me. Dad pointed at it and asked me if I wanted the fries or the burger. I just smiled and said both sounded good. He tried to get up off the couch but it sits pretty low. I went over to help him and he looked at me strangely. So I patted him on the shoulder and went and sat back down. We watched a little bit of “Gunsmoke” that was playing on the television. He laughed at something that was said on the television, thinking it was something I said. He tried to get back up again. I went back to help him up, this time he gave me his arm. He told me it was time to “get to work.”



He walked over to the baby doll crib and inside there was a basket of play food (fruit, vegetables, and cans). He grabbed an apple and told me he needed to put away the bread and water. And without a breath, he turned and walked over to the set of shelves. On the shelves are baskets with all kinds of goodies. The one basket he pulled out had a plastic spoon, a blue crocheted wash cloth, a green fleece blanket, and a green scarf. I again chuckled wondering how these items got there. I can only imagine, but I think it is precious that these “treasures” were put there by my dad or his friends with a purpose in mind. Dad threw the blanket and the scarf on a chair next to the shelving unit. He then placed the wash cloth on top, took the spoon and started stirring the cloth around. I asked him what he was doing and he said he was “folding clothes.” He then handed me the spoon and asked me to put it back. I asked him if we were going to put the clothes away and he said “nope.”



Our next chore was to put the coats away. Dad walked over to another sitting area. On the couch was a mat or I guess you could call it a pad. Probably to help with any accidents that may occur. He picked it up and folded it in half. He told me it was “his jacket” pointing to the open door way and then told me to put it away. As he turned to leave, I placed the pad back onto the couch. Dad walked back to the shelves and informed me that the plants needed some help. I asked him what kind of plants they were but he didn’t answer me. He was already sitting down in the chair with all of the “folded clothes” taking off his shoe. I asked him why he was taking his shoe off and he said so I could put cream on his toes. I asked him where the cream was and he said he didn’t have any. I watched him as he carefully put his shoe back on. And then he just sat back. I sat down on a table next to the chair. We talked for a little bit more; about the picture of the truck hanging on the wall, the red hat on the hook, and how his leg had “caught fire” from the knee down. I don’t always know what dad is talking about, but I always act like I do. I guess it is my way of making him feel heard.



As I am walking to my car I let out a huge sigh. That was exhausting I thought. Up and down and all around. But as I drove home and recaptured the moments from the visit, I realized that dad and I were doing chores together. We were putting food away, folding clothes, and hanging jackets. In my dads world, we were taking care of things together, just like I had done as a kid. Bringing in the groceries from the car, getting the laundry from the dryer to fold, and hanging up coats draped over chairs after playing in the snow all afternoon. It sure brought back memories for me and my drive home was a lot lighter. (silver lining).