A Phone Call with Dad
I talked to my Dad on the phone the other evening while sitting out back on the deck. It was a joy to hold conversation with him, listening about his pet dog, and how she scares away the things that go bump in the night. It seems, according to Dad, when the Dog barks late at night, Dad wakes and turns on the lights. This scares whatever makes the dog bark, and thus quiets the dog. I heard about the deer along the fence line out west of the house, and how they take their time walking and finally disappearing into the woods. He mentioned seeing a Black bear one day out in the field. It lumbered along until it disappeared into the treeline on the north side of the field. Great stories, even if they might just be in Dad’s mind.
He’s 87, and has Alzheimer’s.
I’m not sure if any of these stories really happen or not, but it doesn’t really matter, for I just enjoy having a conversation with my Dad.
This evening he was full of conversation. About deer, volleyball, a bear, reading, watching what he says in front of his wife (my Mother, who rules the household). Some of it was repeated, but it didn’t matter to me. I enjoyed listening to my Dad.
I consider myself very lucky. Dad has always been there when we needed him, he was stern when he needed to teach us hard lessons, he was funny when we needed a good laugh, he played Baseball with us when we needed a diversion, he talked business with me when I was struggling with my career. He has been there, even when he wasn’t in the room with me. I have always known that some of him is in me.
It’s good when I can catch him on the phone and have a conversation with him. It really doesn’t matter what we talk about, it’s just nice being able to talk to my Dad.