A couple of weeks ago Mom and I were going out, and Dad
asked her if he was going to have a babysitter. This was good in that he
remembered granddaughter Courtney staying with him a week or so before, bad in
reaching the need for one.
Mom doesn’t get someone to stay with him every time she goes
out, even for several hours, like for Ladies Bible Study on Wednesdays. Dad
still does pretty well on his own, but here and there problems arise.
He’ll forget to eat whatever meal is due. That’s been going
on for some time—a couple of years at least—and is so out of character for him.
Mom started leaving him a note on the fridge door about food she left, but that
means he has to have some reason to go to the kitchen. He doesn’t always get
hungry now, so he might go from breakfast until mid-afternoon or even dinner
before eating if Mom isn’t around to feed him. Since he’s not diabetic or
anything like that, it’s not a problem other than him getting cranky because of
the hunger.
The bigger problem is the TV. He knows how to operate the
remote, what channels he likes, how to change them and adjust the volume.
Sometimes, though, he’ll hit the wrong button. I can’t fault him for that. I do
the same. But when I do, I can figure out how to get back to the screen I need
to be on. He can’t. He keeps pushing buttons, getting more and more frustrated
until he’s angry if not furious. When no one is home to help, it’s bad.
In three years of being back, he’s walked to my house
looking for Mom only once. After that, she started putting a note about her
whereabouts on the back door. We know, though, that he could start wandering
any time. Not all do, but many will. Once at the wrong time is one too many.
When I moved back, I started going out to dinner with Dad when
Mom needs to go out at night, but I didn’t hang around the house afterward.
Tonight, after fish and chips at Clancy’s, I did, and we watched My Name Is Nobody while I began this
blog. I was worried he wouldn’t be able to follow it, but with my occasional
reminders of who is who and what’s happening, he enjoyed it.
The movie also triggered three versions of a story about
property his grandfather and father bought in Colorado. I didn’t fully get the
relation between their property and Dan’s and the white house they were living
in, but I did understand about Dan and his wife. She took great care of Dad and
his brothers—friendly and lots of snacks for them—when they would visit. Dan
said as little as he could, but he had a gun hanging on the wall in a messy
building he owned. The boys were fascinated with it. Year later, they found out
the story behind the gun. Dan was an incredible shot and fast, fast enough that
he had a reputation for it. He never carried the gun unless he knew he might
need to kill someone. One day a group of would-be robbers rode up to where he
was. One of them suddenly stopped, stared at Dan, whispered to his gang, and
they all turned around and rode away. He had recognized Dan and wanted nothing
to do with him. I have no idea how much of that is true (perhaps my uncles can
corroborate for me), but Dad sure enjoyed telling the story, and it’s good for
him to remember.
Courtney is going to stay with him when I’m not available.
It’s good for them to be together. Hopefully she’ll figure out how to switch
the TV from the cable box to the DVD, but they will survive if she doesn’t.
Probably. Alice’s work schedule often goes into the evening, but she has a few
nights off, and she’s making herself available. Word of warning to them: no
Westerns unless you want the Colorado stories. Over and over.
I've heard this story many times too, but only as an adult. Earlier, when Scott's memory was still in tact, he said Grampa had told it to him. As I have put together pieces of info about our ranch property, it appears that Granddad and Grampa owned about 320 acres. There seem to have been 4 adjacent parcels. The little White House was on the last parcel dad bought and Dan and Minnie lived in a log cabin next to that property. I remember sitting in their living room on their sofa that was covered with a cow hide. I have no recollection of snacks! The core of the story has remained consistent. A group of men came riding up on horseback to Dan's cabin intent on no good. They had been on a crime spree in South Park and we're looking for some more spoils. Dan stood in the door of his cabin with his hand on his gun which hung just inside the door. He was noted as a sure shooter. As the story goes, he was recognized by one of the men whose whispered warning turned the gang away. Grampa knew Dan and Minnie well enough to have gotten this story from Dan, or someone who knew it. Scott has been the faithful conveyor of its essential details to the rest of us. The little White House is where we lived the last summer we were in Colorado. It remained white until three years ago when the current owner painted it dark brown. Since we lived there, a lean-to room was added on the back and indoor plumbing was installed. The outhouse is now used for storage. This is the most primitive place we ever lived, but that summer was a kid's paradise of fun and adventure. Mom never complained in my hearing at least. When I saw this place again in 1999 I realized for the first time the hardships she endured that summer with three rambunctious boys and a toddler. She was a saint.
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