1/12/09

While we were at Dad's on sunday, he had a diarrhea attack and got into a mess. I had really wanted to go to a meeting about the Gaza situation, but, of course, I couldn't leave him like that. All my other selves, including my activist self, keep getting elbowed out of the way by my daughter self. As I cleaned up, Dad said "you're a good piece of people." After I helped him with his bath and we got him bundled up in his warm, soft Mohonk cardigan, he said "You saved my life. You deserve a medal." "You would have survived, Dad, you would have just been messy." "Indeed."

Yesterday, I came downstairs to find it raining in my kitchen - a major plumbing disaster. My first instinct was to call Dad - that's what my mother always did in these situations. But the reality is, he can't help with stuff anymore. I'm on my own.

I really felt it while I was sick - especially on friday, when I was home alone, going in and out of those fever dreams. When I was little until what seems like just a few years ago, if I was sick Dad would come over - he never worried about getting sick himself, he's always been really tough. Back then, Coliseum Books was on 57th St., on the way from Dad's house to the subway, and he would always get a couple of books to console me.

I don't know if it was the english teacher in him trying to make sure I was interested in reading or what, but, in our family, books are what food is in other families - bribe, reward, gift, apology, thank you . . . . everything from the long line for tickets to Shakespeare in the Park (excruciating for a child) to a painful trip to the orthodontist involved a trip to the Coliseum. On holidays, one package always contained a Coliseum gift certificate, carefully packed in a cigar box or a jar to confuse the recipient. I still feel a surge of anger when I see that bank in the space where the Coliseum should be.

Once, when I had the flu, my glasses broke and I called Dad in a panic. He came and took away the broken glasses and had the lenses put in a new frame - but, since I was stuck in bed, he had to choose the frames. I have no idea how he chose, but the pair he got were bright red, definitely not something I would have chosen! But I wore them until they broke.