Here is just a random post. I am most likely not going to be posting again but I felt I really needed to post this.
I talked to her yesterday, I asked her how he was. She said he is good, he is doing good. About the same as he was last I saw him. I understood what she meant and I understood that "doing good" was very relative at this point. He is doing good relative to how he could be doing. Doing good relative to how some of the days have been lately. So, yes, I understand, he is doing "good" for the moment.
He shuffles now, she tells me. He shuffles worse than I have seen him do before. I pick up on the worried tone in her voice. Not just the overall worry, I know the comment about the way he shuffles is a clue. She worries about his medications, she worries about side effects, benefits and blank stares. Sometimes when he is not around other people he is listless. More so these days than before. He is no longer anxious, but these days he is no longer engaged when he has quiet time.
At what point does the long term risk become a mute point? What can I and what should I do? Is there a time when your way of thinking just has to shift? These questions went unasked and unanswered but I knew we both shared them in silence.
Today he was walking with his Grandson in the park, it was so neat to see. They were holding hands, this old man and his grandson, as they walked they stopped and picked blades of grass and gave them to each other. It was very touching, very gentle and very sweet. I couldn't help feel the bitter sweetness of this moment gnaw at me a bit. For one of them it is going to be a wonderful memory. For the other one, who knows how long it will be a memory?
I want to tell you though, she said, he was talking a lot about you today. He remembers who you are. He told me about the time your grandfather obtained all that land for your family. He told me about how you grew up as a wild kid hunting and fishing for food. He told me about the time you ran into that herd of wild horses. He talked a lot about you today, he still remembers. He remembers every story you ever told him. I just wanted to tell you that. I just thought you would like to know.
She didn't elaborate on why she knew I would want to know. It was unspoken, the deep bond and friendship he and I have had over the years. A nice, easy, natural friendship born of a shared respect for each other, a shared understanding of values and many intangible things no one but he and I would understand. I am the one that should be strong now. I am the one that should be of courageous heart. I will be when the time comes, this I know and understand but for now, the reason she told me that he remembers my stories, she was giving me solace and comfort. This bond has not yet been dissolved, I am thankful.
Otter
