RaisingDad

My Dad walks every day-- EVERY day--rain or shine.      Only today isn't rainy, it's shiney.  Very shiney, as in hot!   It's hot, and I've just made my dad happy.  I've bought him a new pair of walking shoes, and, let me tell you, they weren't cheap.       The problem is this: my 93 year-old Dad's feet hurt him when he walks.  They hurt him when he wakes up in the morning, and they hurt him when he lays his head down at night to go to sleep.  They hurt him when he eats, and they hurt him when he's hogging the TV watching...  well, you know what he likes to watch.  They just plain hurt him.  But, the thing is, he doesn't blame his feet.       He blames his shoes.      I drive to Willcox, Arizona on occassion.  And every time I do I see an old man jogging down the road.  It never fails, he's always jogging.  With a big smile o...

My Dad walks every day-- EVERY day--rain or shine.  Part of me wishes he'd stay home, that way we can keep an eye on him, but another part of me realizes that when he's not here I don't have to watch baseball on TV.      I've mentioned before that I enjoy hiking, so I know a thing or two about shoes.  My Dad benefits from this knowledge, and, as a result, wears the best shoes my money can buy.  I say  my money, because my Dad can afford to pay for his shoes himself, but affording to and actually taking out your wallet and doing it are two separate things.      Many a time we've gone to Sam's, and I'll see three or four items in our cart that magically appear out of nowhere.  It could be a pack of 50 little cheeses with a smiling cow on the label.  I like cheese, but I don't want to eat fifty little packages of them.  Neither does my Dad, although he doesn't realize it when he's putting it in the cart....

I'm not as good as I once was, but I'm as good once as I ever was.      My Dad walks every day-- EVERY day--rain or shine.  Maybe it's a habit he picked up when he was in the military.  Maybe it's a habit he picked up as his body started showing the wear and tear of aging.  Maybe he just wanted to be ready whenever the opportunity to be romantic with my mom presented itself.      Myself, I think my Dad walks, because he believes that as long as he's walking he'll never die.  The only problem is that his mind is willing, but it's his body that's letting him down.  Starting with his feet.      "I need a new pair of walking shoes," he tells me, as he walks into the kitchen where I'm at.  I'm reading the newspaper over one of the counters, and he's carrying with him a well-worn pair of walking shoes that he has never complained about before.  "These hurt my feet."    ...

"Dad, I'm cooking shrimp for dinner," my wife asks.  "Do you want regular shrimp or coconut?"      Meanwhile, the guy who's actually helping make dinner...  his opinion goes unrequested.  Who's that guy I'm talking about?  It's me.       And I really can't get too upset by it, because my wife is just trying to make my Dad feel at home. It wasn't that long ago that my Mom passed away, and, after a brief time of him living on his own, we decided to ask him to move in with us.  It's not a decision I regret.  Given the opportunity to do it all over again, I would      But it's been tough.  You can't have two alpha males in the same wolf pack without one wolf becoming incredibly annoyed at the other.       In the old days, the wise Native American warriors used to walk off into the distance, never to return, after reaching a certain age.* ...

My wife's a great cook.      She makes everything from scratch, and she'll spend hours cooking in the kitchen. In fact, she's such a good cook, she can even make English food taste good, and any food you have to put vinegar on to improve the flavor of, well, let's just say you'd have to admit that it would be a challenge.      One time my Mom, when my wife wasn't around, asked me who the better cook was.      I had to be honest, but diplomatic.      "Mom," I told her, "when it comes to cooking Mexican food, you're the best, but my wife's the better cook when it comes to different kinds of food."      Since Mexican food is all my mother ever cooked, she was happy with my answer.      One time, my wife made some great fried rice. It had corn, it had peas, it had carrots, but what it mainly had were large chunks of perfectly season...

Lest you think I consider my Dad a burden, I don't.  It's just if all I wrote about were unicorns and rainbows, both you and I would be bored.       Besides, I find everything my Dad does incredibly entertaining.  Maybe not at the time, but when I look back.  Now I understand the saying, "I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing with you."  I'm not laughing at my Dad, because I'm just like him.  I'm laughing with him because I can see what the future has in store for me.       Old age takes pity on no one.      One of the reasons we bought this particular house, is because it had a small guest house in the front where we knew Dad could live and have his privacy.  It was a way of him keeping his independence, and yet letting us keep an eye on him at the same time.       In his home away from home he has his own TV with its...