Mohonk, part two

Dad at Mohonk (by Brianna Goldberg)

I am going to need to rest up to recover from this vacation. I got up with Dad five times from 12am-8am last night. Each time he sat up and was gazing around in confusion and I said, “hello, Dad,” he said “you’re still awake!” I wasn’t really, just sleeping with my ears open for the sound of Dad rustling, but in the morning he told Kate S. and Brianna that I’d been up all night. I’m glad he doesn’t make the connection between his needs and my staying up all night. I wouldn’t want him to feel bad about it. I noticed that another family staying here with two elderly members has clearly brought paid helpers along. Maybe I should bring Marie next time.

Kate S and I went swimming and did aquatic tai chi after breakfast, and then I was so droopy that she and Brianna took charge of him so that I could nap. They brought him to the spa where he had another massage and then Brianna got him into the hot mineral pool by telling him that it was like a tub, not enough water to be afraid of drowning (of course, you can drown in a tiny bit of water, but he doesn’t have to know that).

“You are my best friend,” he said to me, after she returned him to my custody. “Are you OK?” he asked me. “All pieces OK? I would hate to have you struggling. I would quit,” he said. A sweet sentiment, even if there’s nothing he could quit in protest.

Later, I was sitting in a wicker chair in our room, idly wiggling my foot. Dad apparently noticed the motion. “There’s a snake down there,” he said. “Dad,” I said, “it’s my foot.”

Brianna took Dad out for a cigar after dinner in the wheelchair and then I met them downstairs and he and I attended a square dance. Of course, we didn’t really dance, but he tapped his feet and said he enjoyed the music.