thursday haps
Apr. 22nd, 2004 11:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fearlesstempI haven't done laundry in an age, which makes the morning interesting. Today I was running around the house in a towel post-shower on a desperate underwear hunt (pair found at the bottom of the clean laundry basket next to the dryer, thank goodness) when I realized the answering machine was blinking. Played the message while looking for socks (wanted to wear sandals, since it is so nice out, but yesterday received an e-mail at work saying that bare legs aren't okay until after Memorial Day – am confused as to what that says about bare feet. If one is wearing pants, can one wear sandals without stockings? It seems such a pain to wear stockings with pants and, also, I just hate the look of stockings with sandals. Wonder if I can get past this), and found two messages from aunts C. and B. about grandfather. Aide very sick with stomach virus, desperately need someone to go over and give him breakfast, blah blah blah.
Parental units unavailable, Mom already left for work and Dad preparing for colonoscopy. He initiated the following conversation as I was getting ready to go over to grandfather's house to meet my aunt, after calling work to let them know I would be late.
"If I don't see you again," he said to me from the top of the stairs, "I just want you to know, you have been a perfect daughter."
"Thanks, Dad, that's sweet," I said. "But you're going to be fine!"
"And also, remind your mother that I want you to hand out ten dollars to everyone who comes to my wake and funeral."
"Will do," I said, and ran out the door.
Raced over to grandfather's house, where I was meeting Aunt B., who had, when I returned her call, revealed that she'd burst into tears in the middle of the office in front of people right before I called and thusly had to get out of there, but wanted company.
"I just got my period," she explained when she arrived at my grandfather's house.
"That'll do it," I said.
We walked into the house to find my grandfather already up and around, motoring from the bathroom to the kitchen, his two favorite haunts.
"Hello!" he said. "What a nice surprise."
"You're up," my aunt said. "How long have you been awake?"
"Hmm, let's see," he said, leaning on his walker, pretending to ponder. "I fed the chickens at 6:30, and then – come on, how the hell do I know when I got up?"
"Right," I said. "That's the right answer."
My aunt helped him get dressed ("I'm in my ballet outfit," he said of his undershirt and sweatpants.) and I made him his delicious breakfast of oatmeal and hot chocolate, which my aunt and I then watched him slowly make his way through over the next half hour. Topics of discussion during this period: Flowers outside, article in paper featuring acquaintance of grandfather, my job. It may not seem like much but since my grandfather's mental slate tends to clear out every ten minutes or so, each topic got covered two or three times in our time there.
Aunt and grandfather continued in their remarkable faith in my future. "You're such a great role model," my aunt said, suggesting I look into teaching possibilities at a local private school.
"Yes, definitely," I said, waving my hand in a majestic way. "I could show them how to become a directionless twenty-something living with her parents."
"Don't put yourself down," my aunt said, and I instantly felt bad.
"I was kidding," I said, "I'm fine."
And I am. It's a nice spring day, my grandfather was in good spirits and eating well; when I got to work today, an hour late, I found out the stuff I'd done for the event on Tuesday worked out great. Things feel possible, even if I am wearing unsightly white socks and clunky black shoes instead of cute sandals.
Parental units unavailable, Mom already left for work and Dad preparing for colonoscopy. He initiated the following conversation as I was getting ready to go over to grandfather's house to meet my aunt, after calling work to let them know I would be late.
"If I don't see you again," he said to me from the top of the stairs, "I just want you to know, you have been a perfect daughter."
"Thanks, Dad, that's sweet," I said. "But you're going to be fine!"
"And also, remind your mother that I want you to hand out ten dollars to everyone who comes to my wake and funeral."
"Will do," I said, and ran out the door.
Raced over to grandfather's house, where I was meeting Aunt B., who had, when I returned her call, revealed that she'd burst into tears in the middle of the office in front of people right before I called and thusly had to get out of there, but wanted company.
"I just got my period," she explained when she arrived at my grandfather's house.
"That'll do it," I said.
We walked into the house to find my grandfather already up and around, motoring from the bathroom to the kitchen, his two favorite haunts.
"Hello!" he said. "What a nice surprise."
"You're up," my aunt said. "How long have you been awake?"
"Hmm, let's see," he said, leaning on his walker, pretending to ponder. "I fed the chickens at 6:30, and then – come on, how the hell do I know when I got up?"
"Right," I said. "That's the right answer."
My aunt helped him get dressed ("I'm in my ballet outfit," he said of his undershirt and sweatpants.) and I made him his delicious breakfast of oatmeal and hot chocolate, which my aunt and I then watched him slowly make his way through over the next half hour. Topics of discussion during this period: Flowers outside, article in paper featuring acquaintance of grandfather, my job. It may not seem like much but since my grandfather's mental slate tends to clear out every ten minutes or so, each topic got covered two or three times in our time there.
Aunt and grandfather continued in their remarkable faith in my future. "You're such a great role model," my aunt said, suggesting I look into teaching possibilities at a local private school.
"Yes, definitely," I said, waving my hand in a majestic way. "I could show them how to become a directionless twenty-something living with her parents."
"Don't put yourself down," my aunt said, and I instantly felt bad.
"I was kidding," I said, "I'm fine."
And I am. It's a nice spring day, my grandfather was in good spirits and eating well; when I got to work today, an hour late, I found out the stuff I'd done for the event on Tuesday worked out great. Things feel possible, even if I am wearing unsightly white socks and clunky black shoes instead of cute sandals.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Oh Jess.
Date: 2004-04-22 09:49 am (UTC)And also, remind your mother that I want you to hand out ten dollars to everyone who comes to my wake and funeral.
hee!
Re: Oh Jess.
Date: 2004-04-25 09:52 pm (UTC)