Time to Order Blueberry Bushes

This time last year my father was in the hospital and we didn't think he'd make it to Christmas. Mama was living in the Alzheimer's unit, still able to walk and carry on a circular conversation.

Now Mama's in the final stages of Alzheimer's, whatever that means, can't walk, has to be fed, can say a few phrases if you visit on the right day (and the phrases even make sense in the context of what's going on). My father wasn't supposed to live until last July. He's not the healthiest looking specimen you've ever seen, but he's the most determined to keep living.

He called me yesterday. "Are your horses still pooping?"

We all know the answer to that one. As a comedian I heard once said, Why is it every time you see a horse, it's pooping, but you see squirrels all the time and never see them poop? Very profound and just what you'd expect from this blog.

Anyway. My father wants our manure. It's so nice to be able to make somebody (my father) so happy with so little -- or rather, so much. He's going to send Ike or somebody out here to get a load. I'm very generous with my manure. Want some?

You see, it's time to plant blueberries. He's ordered 30 more bushes. He already has several mini-forests of blueberries -- quite spectacular and delicious long about July.

And he's very excited about the asparagus he'll finally get to harvest this spring. He wants me to buy rubber bands he can use to wrap them in bundles.

Yes, he's on oxygen 24/7. He's supposed to be in a wheelchair. He topples over once a week. He can't button his own shirt because he's lost feeling in his fingers. He's on the highest dose of Lasix they've ever seen where he's living. He takes naps several times a day. When he's not napping, he's scheming. What to do next? He's still planning on going to Panama with me. He's 95 and the doctor said he should be grateful for every day he's not in the hospital. He is, though I think he thinks the doctor is talking about somebody else.

If you're allowed to hang around to reap what you sow, he's going to live forever.

Comments

[groovyoldlady]

Your Dad sounds like a hoot. I want to be like that when I'm old -still planning and scheming and dreaming and trying and LIVING. Bully for him!

[Angry]

I wish I had that kind of drive, now!