Wraithlike, my father gradually appeared in the room on Friday the 13th after I arrived to perform my weekly duty. He stood there with a wan smile, yet looking vaguely troubled. He remembered that we had made plans to go out for lunch but knew that shopping had to come first; out of respect for his limited energy, I suggested he could skip the grocery run, letting Jeannie go alone with me. He accepted the offer and immediately went to lie down.
Jeannie was in overdrive, excited at the prospect of her 80th birthday party. “I can’t believe it,” she said, referring both to the party and the number of years she’ll have amassed. “The latest count is 21 people!” She had stemware out on the table and decorations ready, with four more days to go before the event.
Once we returned, my dad was ready to go for lunch—true to form, he’d located a coupon for a local coffee shop, but said it was up to me where we went, so I chose another place we’d enjoyed before. We got there and sat down, speaking only occasionally. Most of the conversation consisted of his brief responses to my questions. I asked him, at one point, if he wanted to increase his activity level. “No,” he said. “But then just lying around the house doing nothing is no fun.”
“Are you bored most of the time?” I asked. He nodded. I’d assumed this was an issue for him, but hadn’t come up with a solution. Then it hit me. “Well, you know one thing you might be able to do. Since I don’t get the newspaper now, maybe you could cut out articles you think would be interesting and save them for me.”
He brightened. “Yes, I could do that.” Indeed, he had been doing it for years before moving up here. At least once a month I’d get an envelope stuffed with articles he’d clipped, along with a brief note explaining why I might be interested in them.
What a simple idea! And why hadn’t I thought of it sooner? At the same time, I recall how annoyed I used to get at receiving the packets. He would spend several days poring over the Sunday paper, deciding which articles to send me. And why he thought I’d be interested in some of the things was a mystery—but that was before. Whatever he decides to cut out now—coupons, legal notices—anything is fine! It’s all about giving him a reason to feel needed, and that he’s still performing a useful activity. That’s all any of us truly needs.
PS: After a 2-week delay, I got an email response from my stepbrother. It was more encouraging than I expected; he said that while they don’t feel overwhelmed yet, he understands that I’m reaching that point—and that he’ll bring up the idea of hiring a helper (little by little, and he even has someone in mind who could do the job.) But progress is worth noting, even when it doesn’t follow a direct route.
