Mar. 02, 2003 - 20:08 MST

THE WONDERING JEW

What Can I Say ?

Today has been one of those days. They happen, sadly and seem to be coming more frequently too.

Soon after noon today we went to my brother-in-law's house to visit him. He is my contemporary, he doesn't have the crazy back I have, but he does have diabetes and a heart condition. He lost his wife not too long ago and insists on staying in his house evenso.

Heather and I see him each Sunday and once in a while during the week if he needs something that we can do for him. His son here in town comes to see him on Saturdays and about once a month his daughter comes down from Wyoming to visit him.

Heather and I suspect that he is not eating all his "Meals On Wheels" dinners but we don't know that for a fact. He gets thinner as time goes on and Heather takes him to his doctor's appointments. Whether he is taking his medications or not we are not sure.

Poor Heather tries to do all she can for him, but he is getting to the point she cannot hear what he is saying and it is hard for her to figure out just what he wants. I reached that point long ago but now his voice is weaker than ever. Sometimes I feel that he doesn't really give a damn if he lives or dies. We try to keep him interested in staying in this world.

Today was "Family Follies Day," in a way. We were going to take him to Carl Jr's near where he lives for a burger and drink which he likes to do on Sunday. Heather bird dogged him out the door while I got the front seat of the car ready to accomodate him. She observed him lock up. He got in the car, closed the door and I passed the seat belt to him which he passed to Heather and she hooked him in.

So far, so good. We hadn't got a block away when he panicked, he said he had left his keys in the house. The band began to play a noisy tune. Then he decided that Heather had a key and could let him in. We had both refused to take a key or any of his money from the beginning. Heather tried to help him on his bill paying but finally got his son to handle all his Dad's business affairs.

And the band played on. Heather didn't have his son's phone number in her purse, which entailed a trip to our apartment -- maybe four miles -- to get his phone number and try to call him as he does have an extra set. He has a bad habit of not answering his phone. He has caller ID and we suspect that he doesn't want to come out.

The band kept playing. We were a block away from our apartment when he discovered that he had his keys after all.

So now we had to figure out if he had enough oxygen to last a bit or not. He wasn't sure. That damn band was deafening.

The consensus finally was that he had enough oxygen to be out and about for awhile yet. Being quite some distance from Carl Jrs then came the "where shall we get a bite" routine. I opted out to begin with, I said, "Wherever you two decide to go I will be able to find somthing to eat that I like." There is no help like no help ? Finally Heather suggested stopping at the new IHOP in the Stapleton Field business development on the way to his house and he went for that.

We were unable to park close by but found a place fairly near the entrance. And the band began another piece. He couldn't get his seat belt unlatched, then when I did that for him he needed help with his oxygen bottle. Got him out had we headed for the restaurant. I'm slow and out of shape but we find he is in worse shape than we thought. I went ahead to hold the door open, and finally went to see what was up with the two of them. Poor guy, he was hardly making it. We got him in and sat him down in the lobby for awhile.

The band switched to a slower piece. We finally went in and presently were seated. We were presented menus. I begin to think that he can no longer see well enough to read, although he won't admit it. Heather read some of the choices to him. She had ordered and so had I. He apparently mulled things over in his mind and finally decided he would have what I was having.

So we waited, and waited as the band switched to a dirge. After a century or so we were served.

As he tried to eat I nearly broke into tears, it was so hard for him. And as we found out, he didn't want what I ordered, he thought I ordered a meat and potato meal. So the meal drug on, finally Heather said, "When we finish you two wait in the lobby and I will pull the car around for you."

I don't know if he feared Heather would drive off and leave us or what but it was hard to convince him to sit down and wait for her. She pulled around and we got him loaded up, buckled up, door closed and in motion once again, we took him home. The band had calmed down to restful music.

Arriving at his house the band hit a crescendo when he couldn't find his house keys. Much arm waving and milling around. Poor Heather finally convinced him to check his pockets once again and there there they were, in his pocket. She had to manipulate the keys in the door lock as he couldn't quite manage it.

He stood at his door and waved goodbye to us as we drove off. The band stopped, packed up and went home. The picture in our heads stayed with us, her Big Brother standing at his door and waving us goodbye.

His son is supposedly looking for a facility for his Dad to go and live where there is someone 24/7 to pay attention. I don't really know if he is. His Dad needs to go soon I think. I do know that Heather gets very upset and sad to see her big brother this way, as any good sister would. As do I. He is one of the two men who have been brothers to me since the time Heather and I met. They are the only brothers I have that are actual family.

Many of us older people on the net face something similar affecting one of our loved ones and we cope as best we can. Some of us have maybe a Mother and Dad needing help. Some of us are the only ones who can take any responsibility or help in any way. Some of us are coping with an ailment or handicap of one kind or another as well. But it hurts more when it is one of our own, I guess is the best way to put it. It is difficult and saddening, there is more, but What Can I Say ? . . . . . . . . .

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