Sometimes Love Tells A Lie

One night Dan and I visited my 96-year-old father in his assisted living apartment. Dan got into my dad’s wheelchair and started doing wheelies around the room. Dan was the biggest kid I knew and never missed a chance to play.

Dan finally stopped the chair in front of my Dad’s recliner “Do you mind if I marry your daughter?” I was shocked as I didn’t know this was coming. A man usually asks your Father when you aren’t there but Dan was up for the weekend and had asked to see him.

Without missing a beat my dad responded, ” Why? Do you HAVE to get married?”

Dan laughed “No seriously. I’m being respectful. I want your blessing.” My father looked at me and said “Well Jeanne do what you want. But does Dan golf?”

I looked at Dan and mouthed. “Say yes”

Dan nodded, “Yes. Yes, I do”

My father’s face lit up. “Dan the man! I knew you were a good man, Dan!”

Later, after we left:

Dan “I don’t like lying. I don’t golf.”

Me: “You just made an old man happy. Golfing is a requirement to marry one of his daughters.

“Ok, but it’s still lying”

I laughed. My father at 96 was highly unlikely to get Dan out on a course with him. But Dan always wanted to be truthful, honest, and do the right thing.

My father died 2 months later.

Do You Want Fries With That?


WARNING ELDERLY PARENTS WITH HEARING PROBLEM RANT!


Hi Dad! I am on my way over, what do you want for dinner?


Cheeseburger from Mcdonald’s.


Ok. Fries?


Ok, goodbye!


No. Do you want fries?


Lies? Lies? What are you talking about?


No fries. FRIES! FRENCH FRIES!


Oh. No. Not fries. But anything sweet. Cheeseburger and something sweet.


Apple pie?


Ok, goodbye.


No! PIE! PIE!


That is what I said! Goodbye!


No, DO YOU WANT APPLE PIE?


NO, I don’t want any fries! They’re too fattening!


NO! I said APPLE PIES! PIES!


OK! Goodbye! See you when you get here.


Ok. Goodbye. I’m bringing you freakin cookies

Joint Custody

Aggghh I feel like I have joint custody of a 92-year-old toddler. Yep. Like a 2-year-old with a more extensive vocabulary. My sisters and I take turns bringing or making our father dinner. One night, the kid’s meal is “too much” to eat and the next, he wolfs down a Culver’s Double Deluxe.

It is always a mealtime adventure.

Last month:
“This is really good! I’d like this more often. What’s it called?”

“Spaghettios, Dad”

Tonight:
“This is horrible, What is this?

“Spaghettios, Dad.”

“Who eats this stuff, anyway?”

“Yes, Dad, it’s like ghetto spaghetti in a can. I get it. Just trying to make you happy and you loved it last month”.

“It wasn’t this stuff”.

“Yes it was.””

“I can’t keep track of what you girl’s bring me. Just don’t ever buy it again. And don’t bring me a sandwich, like you did tonight, with a lot of stuff on it.”

“It was only turkey and cheese on toast. What was too much?.”

“Just make me a normal sandwich”.

“Normal as in no cheese? Or normal as in no turkey?”

” Hmmm, How about just plain toast Jeanne?”

“Okay, Check. I’ll remember a normal sandwich is just plain toast. Love you Dad. I need to leave now” (before I burst into flames)

“Ok, thanks. I appreciate you girls. And thanks for not arguing. You were actually nice tonight.”

“Easy to be nice dad, when you are nice to me.”

“Ok, but I still miss the arguing. Kind of boring. Maybe next time we can argue about something.”

Aggghhhhh. At least he doesn’t throw food on the floor.