We woke up to a snow-covered landscape, and an improved day. Both of us are feeling better - enough so to go to Dad's first physical therapy appointment. I drove - carefully - on drifted, icy roads through the four miles of farmland that separates where he lives from the local hospital and rehab clinic in Hamilton, New York. Dad survived, in spite of the continuing spinal headache, and afterwards the pretty young PT told him he was in amazing shape for his age - "Shoot," she said, "you're in amazing shape for a man of 65, let alone 82!" He grinned, wryly, leaning on his cane, and I said, "In a few weeks you'll be seeing the whole person." She smiled and said, "I have no doubt."
Our task for the rest of the day is rehydration, which will help both of us get back to normal and help his headache. And I will be back with some photos and, eventually, some of the stories I've been storing up during this week and haven't had time to write. There are many, as things familiar about this place and culture come flooding back to me, but through the lens of so many years away. And on top of that, there is the relationship with my father: for the first time in my life I am caring for him physically - this person who has always seemed physically so indomitable - and doing it in the absence of my mother, a fact that's constantly palpable to both of us. And yet, we're doing OK.
I'm not seeing your header here. First noticed it yesterday. I wasn't sure if that was intentional or not.
We got the barest quarter inch of snow here.
Glad to here things are going better now for you and your father.
Posted by: Dave | January 10, 2007 at 07:14 PM
Hmmm - I see it all right - is anyone else having problems? Thanks, Dave.
Posted by: beth | January 10, 2007 at 07:35 PM
Wonderful picture! I'm always intrigued by mirror image photos, and the angle of this one is SO interesting!
Posted by: evelyn | January 11, 2007 at 12:23 AM
It is more 'Looking In' than 'Looking Out' going by what you say about the unusual and strange bonding taking place between you and your father in the absence of your mother. I have experienced something similar, my father came to live with me after my mother passed away three years ago. At no moment did my mother seem absent - painfully not for me or to my father. We are very reluctant to let go people we love.
Posted by: Uma Gowrishankar | January 11, 2007 at 03:24 AM
What a great photo - I really love it!
Posted by: Jean | January 11, 2007 at 05:01 AM
So glad to hear this, Beth. I think I'd have made friends with your Dad, I like his spirit. I love your descriptions. So different from my family history where any physical ailments generally took on dramatic and/or melodramatic proportions. That's probably the Russian more than the French side.
Posted by: Natalie | January 11, 2007 at 05:46 PM
I'm happy to see this photo (it's a strong one, too).
And I'm happy to hear of improvements on all fronts. Keep on keeping on.
Posted by: Teju | January 12, 2007 at 09:57 AM
I'm very glad you are both doing better, Beth. Intriguing perspective and metaphoric depth in that photo.
Posted by: MB | January 12, 2007 at 02:53 PM
Fun: I wonder if the marks on the mirror are birds or the mirror's defects.
Your picture and words are handsomely matched. I love reading about your dad.
Posted by: Peter | January 13, 2007 at 08:50 AM