After initially suggesting to my dad that he should stay at home last weekend while we journeyed to our mountain home, we gave in to his disappointment and invited him to come along. It was actually a rather enjoyable weekend that culminated in the three of us going to see the new movie, "The Help." My father, aged 95, cane and all, walked into the movie theater for the first time "in a long while," he recalled. We all enjoyed the movie. I made way too many dinners but hey, it's better than eating out all the time.
Upon returning to our in-town home, we visited Mom. She was sort of happy to see us, but more concerned about getting her nails done and going for a walk with her unit. I said to Dad, "I guess we're not that important." He laughed for the first time in a long time. We're going to have to deal with his moroseness, i.e. depression. But at least Mom seems to be adjusting.
My dad accompanied me downstairs to the lobby and seated in the front was a charming, well-dressed, familiar looking lady. "I put a copy of the Jewish News" in your dad's mailbox, the flaming red-haired centenarian said. "When I moved here, I didn't know anything about the Jewish Community and the paper talks about news on all levels, local, regional and national." We chat about my father's ties to the midwest as well as hers, bridge, and many other subjects. I'm hoping she'll inspire my dad and get him out of his funk. I don't think it's quite that easy. The physical therapist suggested asking the doctor for some anti-depressants. We'll see.