Friday, April 23, 2010

A nice day

 

Sometimes I get lucky. And sometimes I forget how lucky I truly am.

Today I was reminded, in the form of a simply nice day.

I was supposed to be working on a story, and I’ll apologize in advance for my lack, but I needed Papa, my resident chauffeur, to take me in to get prescriptions filled.

We did that, and on the way back home, we stopped off at a parts store so Papa could pick up a tool he needed for one of his projects. Nothing fancy there, except that we were both somewhat playful. Rare enough for a man who saw his wife dwindle away over many years, and has to watch me do almost exactly the same thing. And rare enough for me just lately. Yesterday’s drug solution gave me the opportunity.

We stopped for lunch, and generally goofed around, dawdling on our way home. As I said, rare. No appointments, no particular worries, etc.

The sun was shining when we finally got back, and I got the silly notion of burning the burn pile. He got the silly notion of weed whacking. (Remember this is the man who hates yard work with a passion.)

We generally cleaned up around our property, me pruning a few branches here and there and him helping me drag debris to be burned.

By the end of the day we were somewhat tired. He’s no spring chicken, but he can still move faster than me. :)

What would have been onerous labor at any other time was actually fun, simply because we each did what we could, taking our time and resting a lot, and neither of us doing anything beyond our means.

The end result was a thoroughly enjoyable day, which we capped by taking advantage of the last few coals of the burn pile. More than enough to cook a few hot dogs on a stick. :)

Keep in mind that my being sick has given him a purpose again. He never hesitates if I ask him to take me to the store, or if I need him to open a jar or bottle, etc. And keep in mind too that until recently, we sort of existed singularly within each others company.

All of that seems to have changed now. For example, I used to like doing yard work by myself, and never thought about asking him for help. Now, having him outside with me seemed like the most natural thing in the world, and as we talked (while singeing our fingers off cooking dinner) I realized he was simply keeping me company in his gentle, unobtrusive, “let me do what I think I can, and quietly lend a hand when I go too far” way.

There are any number of people who are healthy, wealthy, and have a bazillion friends, but none of them has a Papa like mine. :)

I will be eternally grateful that I “discovered” him before it was too late.

 

Thanks Papa. I love you.