It has been a while since I’ve spent time with Dad, partly just due to our time constraints, some travel, and that I just plain and simple did not have the emotional energy and fortitude to do it. Bad Son, I know.
Really though, deep down I know I am not a bad Son, probably on many scales I am a very good son, I just feel bad, and sad, sometimes. Bad in the sense that I don’t want to see him, bad that I am frustrated when I do see him, angry that I have to see him. Sadness that I feel those emotions at all. Boy, where’s the psychoanalysts couch when you need it?
So see him I did. I drove to his place after work, and I had been planning on going anyway. In addition to visiting him and helping where I could I also had to deposit a cheque in his account, the rental monies that were returned to him after his place in Langley was re-rented. His pharmacist had also called me, there was to be a small change made to his meds, the result of his most recent blood tests. The old meds had to be collected, the change made at the pharmacy, and then blister-packed and returned to his home. A small to-do list, the least I could do.
After I arrived at his place we checked out his scooter, there may be an issue with one or both of the batteries, they don’t seem to be holding a charge. I couldn’t see anything obvious but promised to check into it. At least this time he remembered he had a scooter…….See, there I go again, bad son, Sad, son.
I’m ok, really, it just presents me with some challenges sometimes, being the parent of a parent. Did I mention it makes me sad too??
We finished our visit by going out to dinner. We could have stayed and had dinner at the home but I promised we’d do it another time. I wanted to get out. Chinese food seemed to be the nourishment of choice so we found a local restaurant where we pretty much had the place to ourselves. One tiny little woman attended to us, running back and forth to the kitchen so often I wondered if she was doing double or triple duty. We topped up our tanks, tried to maintain some small talk and once our tummies were full I took him home.
He is so appreciative now, so grateful for my help and commenting often “Thank you Dwayne”. He says to me “We love you”. I know he means He loves me. He never said that before we started helping him with his life, never that I can recall as a kid, but he says it often now, so often I have to believe he means it. That simple statement helps to take the
Sad away. Did I mention it makes me Glad. Thank You Dad!