Now We Are Six

Six years ago this week I flew to Lincoln to see my mother and to give my dad a break.  Fritzi was dying, although we hadn't accepted that fact.  Howard was exhausted, depressed, almost numb, and in total denial. 

In hindsight it's clear Dad was in the earliest stages of dementia.  His issues were obscured by my mother's rapid failing. 

Broken hips, hospitalizations, anesthesia, and rehab relocations have added to the bumps of Pooh being dragged down the stairs.  In this part of my life, playing Christopher Robin to Howard's Pooh, childish mentor to a bear of little brain, we should be learning our sums.  Six years is a long time to a child changing from infant to acquiring early addition and spelling skills.  Instead Dad and I are dislearning everything about time and numbers.  We have been misplacing the names of people and things for quite some time.  Dad calls before six a.m. to enquire the day, date, time, and the name of his roommate.

It's never an easy sum to do. 

© 2010 Nancy L. Ruder



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