I pocket my phone. It’s my dad’s time now, and I won’t begrudge making the choice to come. However, Heather stops me as I make my way to his room. She’s definitely one of my favorite nurses.
“Amelia, what a joy to see you today.” She’s wearing your typical cat ears and whiskers with black scrubs for Halloween. I love that her costume won’t interfere with how she takes care of the residents.
I point to my head. “Your ears are very fetching.”
She taps them and laughs. “You know, I kind of forgot they were there. Doesn’t seem like the residents care too much about my attempt to dress up for them.”
“I’m sure they appreciate it.” I look down the hallway toward Dad’s room. “How’s my dad today? Is he ready for some mac and cheese and checkers?” I hold up my bags indicating the fun activity planned for him.
Heather moves her lip to the side in disappointment as she twists her hands together. “He’s not having the best day today, dear. That’s why I came over here to talk to you before you reach his room. He had to be sedated this morning because he was having an episode with the staff, trying to break out of his room, asking for your mother.”
It’s like a knife just twisted into my heart, ripping a deep crevice in the middle. He was asking about Mom? Fuck. My throat starts to close in and tears begin to well in my eyes. I miss my mom so much. Being so much older than my friends’ moms, she was almost like the token cool grandma to my friends. They all loved her. She was warm, welcoming, funny, and always had a shoulder to lean on when anyone needed one. So, it hasn’t surprised me that my dad went downhill so quickly after she died. They were married for over forty years. They were true soul mates. In fact, the rich and solid love I saw in them was what I thought Aaron and I would share. How wrong I was.
“What was he asking?”
Full of sensitivity, Heather ushers me into a small empty room off the hallway and says, “He was asking about her wedding dress, if she was able to fix the tear. He said he refused to not get married today.”
My hand goes to my mouth as tears start to fall. It’s a story I remember my dad vividly telling me every once in a while before I went to bed, about the day he married my mom. She had a tear in her dress, one along the back of the zipper, and it was so embarrassing that she refused to walk down the aisle. My dad caught wind of what happened and broke all the “rules” of the wedding day, went into the bridal suite she was crying in, and wrapped his arms around her only to ask why she was so upset. She showed him the tear and his exact words were, “So what?” Could you imagine your husband saying that to you about your wedding dress on your wedding day? It was a typical Dad response. Being the free spirit my mom was, she took a second to dry her eyes and then agreed with him. “So what?” is what she said back, and from there, they got married, strained zipper and all.
Seems like a simple story, but my dad told it to my sister and me many times to remind us never to sweat the small things. If things aren’t quite going our way, remember life could be worse and live by the term . . .
“So what?” I ask myself quietly, trying not to let my dad’s bad day set me back. I came here with the purpose of having some fun with him, and that’s what I plan on doing.
Taking a deep breath, tamping down my worry, I say, “Thanks for letting me know, Heather. I really appreciate it.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? It might not be a good day to visit.”
“Maybe not, but I’d still like to see him. I’m here so I may as well go in.”
“Okay.” Heather walks me to my dad’s room. “There is an emergency button in his room if he has another episode. Just hit it and we will be right in, okay?”
“Yes, thank you.” Heather retreats as I peek through the little window looking into my dad’s room. He’s sitting in a rocking chair looking out the window, a blanket draped over his shoulders.
When did he get so old?
He’s always been an older dad, but to see him like this—debilitated both mentally and physically—is heartbreaking. He’s a completely different man.
I don’t bother knocking on the door. Instead, I let myself in and quietly shut the door behind me. I place the mac and cheese on the bed as well as my bag that holds the box of checkers and call out, “Hey Dad.”
He doesn’t move, not even a flinch from hearing my voice, so I take a few steps toward him but to the side so he can see me approaching. I don’t want to startle him in case he’s sleeping.
“Hey Dad,” I repeat. “Happy Halloween.”
He blinks but shows no emotion, only stares out the window, one of his hands gripping the blanket that’s wrapped around his shoulders.
I take a few more steps until I’m next to the chair across from his. I sit and study my father. There are bags under his eyes, frown lines framing his mouth, and liver spots on his hands. He’s aged, so weathered, so not the man I grew up with.
Leaning forward, I gently place my hand on his knee. “Hi, Dad, pretty day out, huh?”
No response.
“I brought some mac and cheese for our lunch. Instead of using breadcrumbs on top, I used your favorite, crushed-up Cheetos.”
No response.
Sighing, I lean back and just start talking. If anything, maybe he’ll enjoy listening.
“My new job has been interesting. A lot of troubled teens in these parts. The amount of kids I’ve had to talk to about drug use is startling, especially heroin. It’s an awful drug running rampant in New York right now. Kind of scary actually.” He blinks. “The teachers are nice. There’s an English teacher who I think I could trick into being my friend. She makes these amazing chocolate chip cookies every Friday and brings them into the faculty lounge. I mean, who doesn’t want to be friends with a chocolate chip cookie master, am I right?” I nudge his knee, but he doesn’t even acknowledge me.
“I know what you’re thinking, does she put walnuts in the cookies? Guess what, Dad? She makes two batches. I know. She’s dedicated. I really think she has her eyes on the geometry teacher who loves walnuts in his cookies, just like you. I’ll get a little closer to her and find out the info and report back to you. Who knows, there might be love in the air at school.”