Making the most of the view
- Michelle Wood: SWCD
- October 28, 2009
- 863
A visitor made a comment that it was too bad that her friend didn't have a better view. The elderly patient disagreed.
She said that she enjoyed that little portal to the world. From where she lay, she could see an occasional bird wing past, or catch a glimpse of the changing sky. Watching in anticipation through that small window gave her hope.
That is kind of my father's situation these days.
From their cozy apartment in the assisted living facility where they live, Mom and Dad have a marvelous view of the sweeping valley below and the rolling, bucolic hills beyond with their quilt-like patches of forest and farm fields stitched together by fence rows. Their favorite chairs each face the double window, with the TV in the corner beside it, so they have a constant picture, real or electronic, in sight.
When they moved to the assisted living facility 22 months ago, one of the first things they asked for was a birdfeeder. They had fed their backyard birds at home for years.
A sturdy tube feeder was purchased and secured on a shepherd's hook to a porch post outside their window. Mom and Dad's feeder was filled with the rich black oil sunflower seeds that so many of the bird species in this part of Ohio enjoy.
Though the numbers and varieties of birds were significantly less than at their former home, Mourning Doves, House Finches, American Gold Finches and an occasional Cardinal visit Mom and Dad's feeder during fair weather or foul.
The other day, I had to run a work-related errand close to where Mom and Dad reside. I decided to pay them a brief visit before returning to my job.
When I entered their living room, my parents weren't alone. The Hospice nurse was just finishing an uncomfortable but necessary procedure on Dad to help relieve some of his discomfort.
I was also surprised to see one of my nieces there, too. Jennifer had taken a day off work to visit her grandparents. I commended her for making the hour-long drive to visit on such a miserable, rainy day.
The nurse soon left, leaving the four of us to converse, small talk mostly. During the course of the chitchat, Dad calmly interjected to me that I should go out in the rain and fill the birdfeeder, which was about a third full.
I quickly barked back, "What? Do you think I'm that stupid to go out in that heavy rain?"
The wry smile on Dad's face coupled with just a hint of a twinkle from his glossy blue eyes said it all. His second son had once again overreacted and used a word that had long been banned from not only his parent's household, but his own.
Mom, Jennifer and I laughed heartily at my having taken the bait. Dad just sat in his big, stuffed chair gloating triumphantly about his little joke.
The window on my father's life might be slowly closing. But even in his frail and cancer weakened state, Dad's quick wit and ability to control a situation remained strong.
"I'll fill the feeder tomorrow," I said as humbly as possible. And I did, in the rain.
Contact Bruce Stambaugh at brucestambaugh@gmail.com.