Golden Years

I don't know how my mother does it.

I've been at my parent's house this weekend. I've been "dad sitting" several times, most of yesterday, a couple of hours today, so that my mother can get out.

You've heard of the train of thought getting derailed? That's how it has been. For example, he tried talking to me about some...plumbing issues...yesterday. So I tried to find out how much water he is drinking.

"Well, let's say you have two churches. In one church, they wear red hats. The other church, they wear green hats. Then there's a war over which hat is the better color."

"Dad, how much water do you drink after supper?"

"I fall asleep eating supper. Then I wake up an my plate is full. I eat it, and then fall asleep, and wake up and it is full again! Who is filling my plate?"

"Well, let's just talk about how much water you are drinking."

"Gerald Ford couldn't walk and chew gum at the same time."

(Gerald Ford has been coming up a lot this weekend.)

I think he talked for six hours yesterday, seemingly without drawing a breath. You think mathematicians get lost in mazes of logic...I kept getting lost in mazes of illogic.

I wish I lived closer than a four to five hour one way trip. I don't know how my mother can do it, between cleaning up, cooking, hauling him on or off the toilet and into the shower (I did it yesterday, and it was a multi-hour, non-stop talking process), etc. The strain has got to be getting to her, getting to him, but of course neither will talk about it to me, let alone to each other. Dang older generation!