RaisingDad

Today, my wife almost had to call the Pope.      She had just spent four hours cooking me a feast. I'm not talking about something you heat up in the microwave from Costco. I'm talking about a five-star meal, all made from scratch. That's just the way my wife rolls.      Forgive me for not telling you what the meal was. I just don't want you to evaluate your life and come up short in comparison to mine.      Now, my father, because of his lack of teeth, has to eat soft foods, so what my wife was making was for me and her, her and I, the two of us.      My father had slept almost all day in his-- my --favorite chair in the great room, with the TV blasting, because, apparently, the noisier a room is, the more conducive to sleep it is. He had only been awake for ten or fifteen minutes.      Myself, I'm in t...

Did I say it was Maloney's mother-in-law who I found at my kitchen table eating me out of house and home?      My mistake.      I meant it was my brother's mother-in-law.      You know how there are some species of animals that eat more than their body's weight per day? Well, I think my brother's mother-in-law must be one of those species, because I never see her not eating. There is never a time that I don't see her noshing, snacking, munching, or nibbling on something.      "Where's Dad?" I asked my patient wife.      "He's taking a nap," she said, which was code for: He went to his room to avoid your brother's mother-in-law. That's one of the rare times I've envied my Dad.      I don't want to say he doesn't like her (he doesn't, but I don't want to say it). Ever since he's lost my mother and his desire to procreate, he doesn't feel the n...

Back when my mother was still alive, and after my father reluctantly gave up his driving privileges, she asked me to drive her to a retirement community so she could visit a friend.      Like a good son, I did. After saying my hellos, I said my goodbyes, and left my mom and her friend bragging to each other about how smart their grandkids were.      When I came back an hour later, I looked for her where I had left her, in her friend's room, only they weren't there. I walked around the place a couple of times, but still couldn't find them.      "Excuse me," I said, approaching one of the staff. "I’m looking for my mother. She's an elderly lady with white hair."      He looked around, and then straight back at me.      "Take your pick," he said.     Raising My Father RaisingMyFather.BlogSpot.com jimduchene.BlogSpot.com  Am...

My father went for a walk today.      I must not have said enough Hail Mary's for Easter, because he found his way home.      We're expecting some friends and relatives over for the holiday. As I was buffing the oak floor, the noise must have bothered my tired old Dad because he gave me the Mad Dog look you see on gangbangers and hippity-hoppers. He's given that look to everybody but my wife, because he knows she's in charge of his next meal.      My father, when he's inclined, can give the ugliest bug-eyed look. It's very scary. Imagine the scariest monster in the scariest movie you've ever seen, like the ex-wife fighting Dustin Hoffman for custody of his son in  Kramer Vs Kramer , now imagine that monster with its eyes bulging out of its skull and giving you the stink eye.      It's a frightening look.      As o...

Baseball season hasn't started, but pre-season training has.      Most baseball teams practice and train in Arizona, and they'll play each other several times a week. Several times a week too often, if you ask me, but that's neither here nor there. I'm here, thank God I'm not there. Watching baseball, that is.      My father, even with his Alzheimer's, still enjoys seeing his favorite team play. The game is slow, with a lot of down time, so he doesn't get as confused as with other fast moving sports like bird-watching or chess.      We tried watching a soccer game one time, but we both lost interest. It was during the World Cup, and we fell for the hype.      "What's happening?" my father kept asking me.      "Well," I'd say, trying to muster as much enthusiasm as I could "one player is kicking the ball up the field and now another player is kicking the...

Of course I couldn't let what my brother wrote me to go unchallenged, so I wrote him back that my grandson even mentioned knowing him in Heaven.      "He did?" my brother asked, probably wondering what the catch was.      "He did," I answered. "He said, 'I asked Grandma, "Who's that guy with the Zika head and the big nose?"      'She said, "That's your Lito 's brother. The guy who thinks he's funny."      '"He is?" I asked Grandma.      '"He is," Grandma told me.      '"Grandma," I said, "I don't want to be born anymore."'"     Raising My Father RaisingMyFather.blogspot.com jimduchene.blogspot.com  American Chimpanzee @JimDuchene  

When my grandson was 2-years-old, he told me many times that before he was born he was an angel in heaven, and he used to see my mother there all the time. When I asked him how he knew she was my mother, he answered that she told him that I was her son. To this day he talks about the times he met and spoke with her.      When he was 3-years-old, we were on a hiking trip.      " Lito ," he asked me, calling me by a shortened version of the Spanish word for grandfather, "why do Angels have wings?"      Just recently, on our last trip, while we were climbing a particularly tough mountain, he asked me, " Lito , do souls feel pain?"      He must have been hurting from the climb, but he didn't complain.      The kid's tough.      Like me.      That night, ...