If you have been reading these blogs, then you’ll see that this one follows “No Remembrance”.
I have been doing a lot of thinking this week about my grandfather and father-in-law. You must realize that after “No Remembrance” I have had a lot of time on my hands, doing nothing, but resting.
One day when my grandparents were coming out of the Giltner’s Restaurant, he stumbled over a parking barrier and hit his head on the ground. He suffered a concussion and some other brain injuries, which caused him difficulties for years there after. After my grandmother passed, he lived with my Aunt and her family. It was sometimes a volatile arrangement. As he aged further, we couldn’t believe the things he tried to do to. He still drove, but probably shouldn’t have, especially after he backed out of the garage with the door still down. Then there was a time, when my Aunt’s family took a vacation leaving him, at his consent, “Home Alone”. He took a day and drove 120 miles one way to visit an old friend from five decades previous. He told the story with a smirk on his face, implying, “I did it”.
My father in-law (See Blog, The Old Warrior), after his stroke, began sliding into dementia. After my mother-in-law passed, he lived on his own, but only a mile from two of his children. We had not yet taken his car away, but told him not to drive out-of-town. One day he decided to drive 50 miles one way into another town. Why he did, or who he visited, he could never explain, in his stroke garbled language. So, I asked, what was the speed limit on that road? “65” he stated proudly. “No”, I said, “the speed limit was dropped to 55, ten years ago. With your stroke you are difficult to understand, how could you have explained to a policeman?” He just sat with a smirk on his face, like, “I did it!”
I don’t remember my father doing any of this. But as for me and my house, well that’s another story.
Yes, I have spent a couple of weeks “laid-up”. Ok, so with company that arrived for the weekend, and stoked up on pain pills, I drove for donuts Saturday morning, then to Indianapolis later in the morning, to and from church on Sunday, By Sunday afternoon, don’t even show me a car! On Wednesday I elected to ride shotgun to the doctor’s office. (Was HE surprised at my giving up control of the car, and quickly understood my pain level)
Rest he says! Just relax, and let the muscles heal! Ok, 28 hours into rested, I was ready to find a project. The boss of the house, kept jumping in “to do” my stuff. I waited for her to go to the post office, and got out he vacuum and cleaned up the ashes around the fire-place. See never knew it until the next day! I can do it.
I did it, I did it! I guess it’s just that male thing, not wanting to give in or give up.. Boy, I pity my kids when they want to take my car away!!!
Which reminds me. I recall when my other grandfather (my dad’s father) came to live here, he wouldn’t study to get his driver’s license, so dad took his pickup truck away. Not to be deterred, Grandpa, just drove the tractor to the neighbor’s house for coffee and chats.
( I too have a tractor! I can do it!)