My Dad Turns 80
My dad turned 80 today. He looks fantastic, almost better than when he turned 60.
On his 60th birthday he flew to San Antonio, Texas to spend a weekend with Greg and me in the motorhome we lived in while we installed/tested an automated warehouse system for the Air Force. We lived there for 8 months. My Dad came down to celebrate his big 6-0 in the town where he was stationed as an Air Force officer in his 20's.
While he visited, we had an interesting tour of the trails of his youth, ending with his calling my mother in complete disbelief as we drove him to the airport in our motorhome - and he on a very early (1988) model of a cell phone - saying "you'll never believe this, but I'm sitting in a living room talking to you on a phone while we're driving down the highway."
He's seen alot in his life. A 2nd generation Washingtonian, his father was an Ear, Nose, and Throat specialist who often saw patients in their living room. Something of that medical intuition rubbed off on my dad and even to this day, he's very conservative about medical care and drugs.
He was a master carpenter most of his life, magically transforming "nothing" into more than most people's imagination could fathom. I've always been in awe of his talent.
He won an award for his expert remodelling/trim work in the State Room at the US State Department. Did I mention my dad is brilliant and skilled?
As an aside, my neighbor is having his house remodelled by a company who has employed a younger version of my dad named Dave. Each day, I stop to admire Dave's handiwork, the fresh smell of newly sawed lumber, and the sturdy work of an talented carpenter.
I miss my dad's help with projects.
In 1999, 9 years ago, my father had a massive stroke that was not discovered until hours after he knocked on the door, floor, walls trying to get help. I thought we'd lost him. Instead I was just beginning to find him. He is locked inside his head with few means to communicate his needs to the world. He has a limited vocabulary (fewer than 50 words) that doesn't come close to what he's trying to say. He can sometimes painstakingly draw what he's trying to explain; he cannot write words that make sense. His right side is paralyzed and he walks with great trouble.
Yet, he manages to communicate all his needs, take care of his self (dresses, washes, eats) without assistance; figured out a way to get a scooter and drives himself to our local shop area to visit with friends, get his haircut, have coffee, and distribute dog biscuits.
On his birthday, we all worried that my mother - one foot in some other world with Alzheimer's would be disruptive and difficult and wondered if she should be included. He insisted she come and smiled as lovingly on her as any other time I can remember.
It was a great day.
