Dad — Page 4

Day Thirty-Four

April 16, 2020 at 10:11 am by Claudia

It’s coldish today. Tonight and Saturday night it’s going to go down below freezing. For all of our hoopla about an early Spring, Mother Nature decided to show who’s boss. The month of April has been fighting Spring tooth and nail.

Somebody asked me to show the cover of Modern Nature, one of the books I received from John Sandoe Books. So here it is. Coincidentally, I just finished The Lost Pianos of Siberia, so I’m contemplating my next read – this may be it. Pictured is his garden in Dungeness, with the nuclear facility in the background.

Don took his early morning walk. I finished the book. Now we’re in our respective areas – he on the sofa in the living room, me in my chair in the den. Some of you may know that Don has been sober for – I’m trying to remember the exact number of years – around 44 years. He works his program, going to frequent meetings, sponsoring several people. He’s done this the entire time he’s been sober and he never wavers. He has helped so many people and, of course, has been helped by many. Obviously, physically going to meetings is not possible, but he’s discovered a meeting that he goes to every day at 9 am via his phone. He really likes it. So our morning routine is a bit different these days. Instead of sharing our second cup of coffee together on the sofa, I make our coffee in time for him to sip it while he’s attending the meeting. And then I come in here to write this blog and sip mine.

For someone who grew up with an alcoholic father, Don’s longtime sobriety was incredibly comforting when we first started dating. I knew he was committed to his program. Both my sister and I made the decision long ago not to drink, so it wasn’t as if Don had to deal with alcohol in the house or me ordering a drink when we were out and about. And I didn’t have to deal with it. After so many years with the fallout from my dad’s alcoholism impacting my life – well into adulthood – Don’s wisdom helped me. More importantly, he taught me to forgive. I’m so proud of Don. And I’m enormously proud of my dad, who fought his demons, and was a good and kind and loving man who helped everyone he knew. Gosh, he was a good guy.

I miss him so much.

Didn’t mean to get into all of this, but this is the way the blog often is. I get a thought and start to write about it and, suddenly, I’m off. I feel such profound love for my husband and my parents. My mom spent the last years of her life in a nursing home. I can’t imagine how worried we would be if she was still there during this pandemic. Or how worried we would be about my dad. And I know there are so many people out there with parents and loved ones who are extremely vulnerable. It’s so heartbreaking.

A reminder that during the Spanish Flu pandemic, people got tired of self-isolating and when the First World War ended, went out in huge groups to celebrate. Unfortunately, the virus was still there and many died because of their impatience to get back to normal. My grandmother lost two sisters within a week of each other; she had gone home to nurse them. Adored sisters/aunts that I never got to know. So, stay safe. Stay home no matter how frustrated you feel. Don’t listen to that man. Listen to scientists. Listen to Governor Cuomo – that’s who I’m listening to. Don and I have already discussed this; we’re sure that, even when we get the all-clear, we’ll probably stay in place for a good deal longer.

Happy Thursday.

Flowers, Dinner & A Father Memory

March 6, 2020 at 10:39 am by Claudia

A trip to the grocery story had an added benefit: more tulips. I bought two bunches because they were on sale. The other vase is in the living room on the stereo. Don has declared that we must always have flowers on the island. Happily, I always want to buy flowers, so now I don’t have to feel guilty.

We had dinner with Rick and Doug last night at a favorite restaurant. We haven’t been there in a long time. It’s a local German restaurant that is always packed. There isn’t a whole lot on a standard German restaurant menu that I can eat, as it’s usually meat, meat, and more meat. But this place is special; they always have at least two or three vegan/vegetarian options and those options are not boring. They’re like nothing I’ve ever eaten. So, so good! It’s a smart business decision because we’re near a college town, there are lots of young rock climbers that come up for the weekend throughout the year, and many of them are vegetarians. Last night we had Spaetzle Primavera: Homemade German egg noodles tossed with fresh vegetables, grana padano cheese, sun-dried tomatoes, basil pesto & cream. Oh my heavens, it was delicious! And I brought my leftovers back home and will have them for lunch today.

One interesting thing that happened when I was reading Year of the Monkey by Patti Smith this morning. I read this passage, written when she was in Lisbon:

“On a twilight walk a strain of music drifts through the old city, evoking the low, sonorous voice of my father. Yes, Lisbon Antigua, a favorite of his. I recall as a child asking him what the title meant. He smiled and said it was a secret.”

I have my own father-memory of that song. Years ago, when I was visiting my parent in their first retirement home in Rogers City, MI (way up at the top of the Lower Peninsula, on Lake Huron) the three of us were playing a game at the kitchen table. We often did that in the evening. Mom always had the radio on, tuned into an Easy Listening station. (That accounts for my vast knowledge of singers and song titles from the 30s, 40s, and 50s. I grew up listening to that kind of music.) Anyway, a piece of music came on that I had heard before, many times. I didn’t know the title, so I asked my parents if they knew. Dad immediately responded: Lisbon Antigua. This particular, and most famous version of the popular Portuguese song, was by Nelson Riddle.

That has always been a strong sense memory for me; the room we were in which was a little nook off the kitchen, the sound of the radio, the fun we had together playing games, the happiness that my parents finally had living in a small town in Northern Michigan which had always been their dream, the luxury and, I realize now, great gift of being able to stay with them for a several weeks while I was off for the summer from my teaching duties at Boston University. I think about it often and have shared that memory with Don in the past. So coming upon this passage about Patti, her father, and Lisbon Antigua was a marvelous sort of synchronicity. (Is that the right word for it?) Both Don and I have felt that synchronicity at times while reading her books.

It sort of made my day.

Happy Friday.

Sunday

January 5, 2020 at 10:26 am by Claudia

I moved my dad’s first attempt at painting in oils to this wall. Just to the right is the entrance to the downstairs bathroom. I like it here. I well remember that red vase which was always on the 3 shelf built-in bookcase in our living room. I think I remember him painting it, but I can’t be sure if that’s a reliable memory. (He made that frame, as well.)

Thank you for your compassionate and kind comments on yesterday’s post. Neither of us could conceive of ignoring an animal in pain, or leaving it on a dark road to be hit again and again by motorists who drive too fast and wouldn’t see it in time. Taking some sort of action is a must. I called the County yesterday to tell them about the body. Unfortunately, I’ve had to include their number in my contact list on my phone. Between last year and this year, I’ve had to call them several times.

I’m very proud of my husband.

Today, we’re just going to hang out at home. I’m going to continue reading Jane Eyre and work on the dollhouse. Don’s practicing his guitar. It’s been a tiring and emotional week for various reasons and we just need to chill.

We’re both hoping that the arrival of Monday will get us back on track. Maybe we’ll finally know what day of the week it is!

By the way, I changed the name of The Cabin to the The Lake House. The inside looks like a cabin but the outside doesn’t. So as Don and I were sitting on the sofa last night talking about the dollhouses, I came up with the new name.

Happy Sunday.

Flowers, Dinner & A Father Memory

Sunday

Lambs Like to Party

A Note

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