Tuesday, July 14, 2015

'I have a problem'......


Daddy in his garden patch
My cell phone rings, and it's Daddy. Daddy who rarely calls my cell phone, but he remembers I'm in Idaho, not Texas. We don't have a land line in Idaho, not that he would call it that. He'd call it a telephone...

He starts by telling me a cousin I haven't seen in 50 years died yesterday, Pedro who was about the age of my older brother, Gary. Pedro who was a lot like Gary, and died of the same thing Gary did this past February.

As Daddy put it, they were both 'wild as a briar patch hare'.  Ten years from now I'm going to want to remember all those sayings Daddy had, so today I grab a pad of paper and jot it down. And I smile for maybe the first time today.

Baking Snickerdoodles with Daddy in his little kitchen. Please ignore bra rolls...

We talk a bit, then he says, "Beverly, I have a problem." It's been one of those mornings when I can feel the tears just behind the surface, pressing to get out, but if they start they might not stop, so I hold onto them. Frustrations with my mother, whose world is spinning out of control faster every day, have started my morning off tough. So I'm not at all sure I can handle hearing about yet another problem, especially if someone is counting on me to fix it.

'Okay, what's wrong?' I ask, not really wanting to hear.

'Well, I've got gallons of beets sitting here in my kitchen and I can't find whole allspice. I've been to Walmart, and the spice store here in town, and nobody has any. I need the whole allspice to can my beets, and they're already picked, so I wondered if you can get them on that Amazon?'



Oh Daddy! Thank you, thank you, thank you that at 90 years old your only pressing problem is whole allspice. And that you are clear enough to remember Amazon, even though you don't own a computer.

And thank you, whoever invented Amazon, that for $9.62 I was able to ship him a pound of whole allspice, scheduled to be delivered in two days to the edge of Kansas.

And yes, Daddy, you can pay me back in a jar of beets. That would be absolutely perfect.

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

A wonderful moment. An aging parent is one of the hardest parts of growing older.

Gregg

Bev said...

Gregg, although it shows you as anonymous I suspect I know who this is, and I'm honored that you not only took the time to read my musings, you took time to leave a comment. I know you also have an aging Mom, so you understand the heartache of seeing them decline. Not an easy stage we're in right now. I try to remember to be as gentle with her as I hope my loved ones will be with me in twenty to thirty years down the road. xoxo

Debbie said...

We're going through some of the difficulties of the aging process with my husband's mother. She raised 4 kids who became wonderful, responsible adults after she was widowed at 35 with 3 teenagers and a toddler (she never remarried). Now it's impossible most of the time for her to hold on to reality. So difficult to see! We live in the same town she does and can be there easily when she needs us. I know you are separated from your mom by many miles, which has to make it really hard for you. Blessings, Bev, as you minister to both your mom and your dad.

Bev said...

Thank you Debbie, for your caring words. It's definitely something that caught me unaware, now that I look back over the past five or so years I can see where there were signs this was coming. I think the hardest part for me is that 99% of my time is spent caring for her, checking on her, rather than just enjoying each other. I imagine it's much more frustrating for her than I can even imagine, to be so confused and see her world spinning out of control.

Gretchen said...

Sending you many hugs, Bev, & a prayer for heaping amounts of grace. Xxxooo

Susie Neff said...

This is so touching. I love that your dad recalled enough about the concept to ask you about Amazon. God bless you all.