Here we go again rushing to see Dad who at age 97 may not make his birthday in February. His goal was to die at age 100. We got a call on Friday that he was in hospital with pneumonia and on Sunday we went to see him. He lives in New York (where I was born) and plans took time to arrange.
When we got to the hospital he was gobbling down his lunch; these days an unusual sight to see him with a hearty appetite. He had perked up and wasn’t in the state we had anticipated. My cousin, who takes care of him at night, and his aide, Josie, were also there. He had not wanted me to visit but was pleased to see me and I was glad I had listened to another family member who encouraged me to visit.
Unfortunately I had not brought my camera. His smile even through his frailness, still lights up a room and his friend in Holland would have appreciated the photo. The view from the hospital would have made for a nice shot as well – lovely spring (in December) weather, the flowers in the planters around the hospital still in bloom.
We went out for our own lunch. We picked a local deli, though not the type my six characters meet in, and I was amused that someone asked us to watch his bag at the next table. I guess New Yorkers still trust strangers.
We returned to the hospital and spent a couple of more hours but by then he was tired and told us to get out. He hadn’t seen Bernie, my husband, in a while (I usually visit on my own) and seemed pleased to see him. He liked Bernie’s shirt and wanted to know where he could get one. Not that he’s ever going to travel very far again. The next day he remembered some tomatoes I had brought him and which I totally forgot about, when I had visited after his open heart surgery at the age of 94.
The next morning we visited and were told he would be discharged. It surprised me that they were releasing him so soon but his lungs had cleared and that was the only reason he was in hospital, this time.
Before we had to leave to catch the flight home, we spent a few hours to visit with him after he returned home and was comfortably ensconced in his big easy chair with feet resting on a foot stool and covered with a blanket. He is always cold. He said he probably would not see me again and we reminisced about the past like the time he ran out into the rain to fetch my parakeet, Chatter, who had flown the coop. He got her too. She lost a tail in the process but he did get her.
My Dad has lost his appetite for food which is pretty ironic since he used to be quite large and a gourmet He can still converse with some of you in your native (or adopted) languages. He speaks most languages but unfortunately did not pass down that ability to me. So Alba in Spanish, Ruggi in Dutch, Stephen in German he would be delighted to chat.
His friend in Holland who I mentioned above, he met playing bridge. He (not so much anymore) plays bridge on line with people all over the world. Mostly women as he liked the ladies (still does).
This quote of Adam Smith sums up Dad
What can be added to the happiness of a man who is in health, out of debt, and has a clear conscience?
very quickly written for
Blogophilia 41.4 Topic: “Here We Go Again”
(Hard, 2pts): quote Adam Smith (the father of Economics)
(Easy, 1pt): use a word or phrase for a TV show without actually naming the show
*Paraphrase from the TV quiz show Jeopardy