Part of the reason I quilt is what happens to my body and mind when I do it. If you pay attention you can feel the stress run out of your body as you concentrate on the feel of the fabric, the colors, the thread...all of it. There is something in there that takes you someplace else. Now, people out there that don't sew, of some sort, I can see you rolling your eyes...boy, is this woman nuts! So let me tell you the rest of the story.
My parents who are picking at the sides of 80 years, have two forms of transportation, one very old SUV and a small pick-up truck that I gave them for Christmas a couple of years ago. The very old SUV was/is getting beyond its years and they really needed a new vehicle. They need two vehicles, there is a bigger story here but that's for another time. So, after much thought and figuring out how to pay for something else on a very limited income (they only have social security to live on) and many, many arguments (we don't do anything in the family without an argument) we (the three of us made the decision) decided that a semi-new car was needed. Now, I have been alive for 58 years and my parents have had many cars in the past. The thought crossed my mind that this would probably be the last car they would purchase, either together or separately. There is some sadness associated with that thought.
My next door neighbor is Art, he is a very detailed man who takes care of everything he has and he has ALOT of stuff. All very organized, all in good shape. So, speaking with him one day he mentioned that he had bought a new car. I'm the oblivious neighbor, I never notice new things like the neighbors new car, new plants, etc. I do not notice things like that, I just don't. Anyway, he continues to tell me that he is selling his old car, which is a very nice car. I'm thinking that it would be a good car for my parents, easy to drive, easy to get in and out of, etc. So I ask him the price, he tells me, long story short, we go to the bank and get the money and buy the car.
It's a really nice Toyota Avalon, all electric everything (there's a reason why I mentioned that), leather seats, sunroof, etc.
My father has the beginnings of Organic Brain Syndrome. This is a slow moving form of dementia. He has problems remembering words and his speech is slurred. He sometimes sounds like he's been nipping at the bottle but I know he doesn't drink anymore. He also is completely and utterly computer/electronic challenged. And challenged is a mild word. He cannot turn on a computer, much less turn one off. I bought him a Kindle last Christmas, he cannot work it. He can turn it off and on and can turn the pages. I have to go to his house, put the books he wants on the thing and he can do enough to read the book, most of the time. I say this, not as a criticism but as an observation.
My father has always been my caregiver, my whole life, my biggest fan and biggest critic. But he is my hero. When I was 8 we were in a car accident. Neither of us were hurt bad but I had a bloody nose and a lot of facial swelling. I was checked out at the hospital and pronounced fine and sent home. I went to bed that night with my father in a chair at the side of my bed. I woke up in the morning with my father in the same chair at the side of the bed.
Sorry, I digress.
Mom has the car pretty much figured out. She's mentally sharp, her body is going to pieces, but nothing wrong with her mind. She's mastered the buttons and knobs and is off to the races.
So, Dad calls me the other night. "Sharon, I'm sorry to bother you but I think I need you to come over here and help me." (I live 7 miles from them). "What's wrong Dad?" I ask. "Well, there's a light on in the car and I can't figure out how to turn the light off. I've pushed all the buttons, I've turned it on, turned it off, I can't get this light to turn off!" (He's exasperated now) "Tell me about the light, Dad". Where is the light?" "On the dashboard" he says. I'm thinking real hard about this light. It's cold outside and it's also 9pm. I don't really want to go over there if I can help it.
"What color is the light?" I ask. He says, "it's red". Aahh! "Is it blinking? I ask. He says, "yes, it's blinking". Eureka!!!!! "Dad, that's the alarm system light. It's supposed to blink. It lets the bad guys know when they come to steal your car that you have an alarm system". "Well, won't it run down the battery?" he asks. "No, it's a good thing, it's supposed to be blinking and red. It will not run down the battery" I say. He pauses, then he says, you mean that car has an alarm and it will go off if someone tries to steal it?" "I never heard of such a thing!"
I drive a big, bulky Ford F-150 four door King Cab truck, yea, easy on gas, yea right. My father has ridden with me many times. He never noticed that there was an alarm. Funny how things we take for granted are something new for somebody else. He had no idea, it wasn't in his world, so he didn't know. His world is getting smaller, that's kind of scary. Understandable, but scary for me, remember? he's my hero.
Take care, thanks for listening
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