Nov. 15, 2009: Looking for my visibility

After an afternoon of wandering through the Central Park Zoo on wednesday, Mike came back with me to visit Dad. Dad was in an unusually argumentative frame of mind. It took some cajoling to get him to eat dinner, and he did so grumpily. While he ate, Mike and I sat on the couch, petting Kristen. “What are you two doing over there in the dark?” Dad suddenly asked. All the lights were on. “Dad, it’s not dark,” I explained, “your eyes are bad.” He clearly didn’t believe me, but kept eating. A few minutes later, he said, “You just came here to fuck.” “That’s not true,” I told him. “I came here to see you,” added Mike, who is in a committed relationship with someone else, but Dad was not mollified. He took a few more mouthfuls. “I’ll be out of the way in a few minutes,” he said. No amount of reassurance could convince him that he was not in the way, and he headed off to bed.

Sexuality seems to be this week’s theme. When I arrived on Thursday, Dad wasn’t wearing any pants. I figured he was going to bed soon, so I didn’t make a fuss about it, but then he started fondling his penis. While I was trying to work through my shock and figure out what to do, Dad must have picked up on my vibes, because he asked, “Does it bother you when I play with my toy – this thing?” “People usually do that in private, Dad,” I told him, struggling to keep my voice calm, because I didn’t want him to feel bad. “I’m not doing it in private, am I?” Dad asked. “No, you’re not,” I told him. “Better cover up,” he said, pulling his sweater down over his thighs. And that was that.

On Friday, Dad was investigating the wall of his apartment. “What are you doing?” I asked. “I’m looking for my visibility. I don’t know where it is,” he responded.

Dad signed my birthday card! I didn’t know he could still write, but Kate S. gave him a pen and he wrote three shaky letters, “D-A-D,” followed by an exclamation point. When Kate S. asked him what the exclamation point was for, he said “I can’t remember the word.” “Emphasis?” she asked. “Yes!” said Dad. We celebrated my birthday at his house, at our Friday night dinner, with an accidentally flourless cake. Nobody knew there was anything wrong until I admitted my mistake (after they’d eaten it!). I guess I’m a little frazzled these days.