“Tengo dos pesos,” I repeat back to the instructor inside the DVD as I drive the now familiar road to Topeka. WHEN EDITH left Thursday afternoon, she asked if there were anything she could bring him the next day.
My son, Tim, is about to marry Violeta, a native of El Salvador. The Spanish lessons help pass the time, although I’m not sure how useful saying I have two Spanish coins is going to be.
But there’s lot of road and lessons to come.
My visit to dad on Thursday wasn’t as productive, if it had to be measured. He was overcome with “malaise,” that day. His beloved Edith and I did most of the talking across his bed, first on topics we thought dad would enjoy but then drifted onto recipes and gardening.
Edith dutifully plied dad with a drink fortified with calories. He’s down to 140 pounds from his usual 165.
His physical therapy this week has been to sit on the edge of his bed. That’s not as easy as it sounds when your spinal column has been reconstructed. All those sit-ups have paid off.
A few years back I read the book “Younger Next Year,” by Chris Crowley. The premise is that good habits help take you along a trajectory of good living until you contract something like cancer. Then your death can come rather precipitously.
Esta bien. That’s OK.
Death is inevitable. The less time we have to dwell on it, the better.
Even though I don’t think dad ever read Crowley’s book, he lived it to a T. He enjoyed his work, kept healthy with exercise and a good diet, and loved being in love with my mother for 59 years.
“Just yourself,” he said.
There’s the spark.
Susan Lynn
Relationships: the spark of life
