Year of Len Nearing an End

Year of Len Nearing Its End

Since our return from our trip to Italy and our cruise I haven't written. Many have encouraged but I have not had the inclination , or clear relaxed mind of being on holiday to write. My beautiful daughters and their respective spouses have moved into new homes this past summer. So it has been busy with; "dad, can you do this for us , or fix this or look at that?" I don't mind and actually love doing it. It was lucky they were within blocks of each other , and by the way, I am so happy of that.

Rosemary, the love on my life, has had a tough go of it since our return to hectic normal life, both professionally and personally. I shall forgo the professional because it is somewhat resolved that her frame of mind being: "can't worry over something I can't control, so what will be will be." Personally she is going thru a tough time with her parents, which we live next door to  them.  It is not a "Everyone Loves Raymond" situation. It is a constant frustration on a daily basis. Those who have gone through this can fully understand. She gets depressed over the fact her parents are no longer the guiding spirit behind her life. They live inside a dense cloud. Sometimes it clears and there is clarity and other times she wants to lay in bed curled up and cry. It is a horrible illness: Alzheimer's. It affects not only the victim but all the family as well.  Having gone through this with my own parents and was blessed that God answered our prayers when he took them within His arms, relatively early. Rosemary parents are so very fortunate they have not experienced (and I pray they will never experience) a care home environment as my parents did. They are fortunate they can get along well (relatively) with the aid of a very nice care worker living with them. On a daily basis Rosemary checks to see if all is well, even though the care taker is there. Her parents are not the same as they once were. She has to treat them as children and one's patience is tested often. The terrible thing and very tragic; this gets progressively worse, and one's patience gets thin, very very thin. Rosemary thanks me on almost daily basis for keeping her grounded and reminding her, they are children we have to look after now,  plain and simple.

Dad built this olive press.

Doesn't look like much.

It has tools,and much much more. So well cherished.

Moving on. I have been unpacking and organizing and yes purging of items since our move. We had over 200 boxes unpacked in basement. Now that my basement project (man cave) is complete we are unpacking and storing, or purging. Recently I came across my beloved dad's tool boxes and boxes of odds and ends we cleared from my mum and dad estate. When we cleared out their old home we split up tools, personal possessions and what nots. I have a work area under our main floor laundry. It is combination furnace room and tool/ work room and has a height of 6 feet 4 inches. Two tool boxes which I saved and cherish, are two handmade tool boxes from scrap wood and well built with a latch with copper wire locking system. The room I have down stairs is small and low ceiling but very cosey for me especially when I opened one of the cases. I smelled my dad. The same smell that was on him constantly. Tears began to flow as the tiny room had my dad's spirit there. Opening the box it had two sliding shelves made of wood from wooden grape crates. He used everything and hardly ever wasted anything. The odour was, as best described was like saw dust mixed with machine oil. He had a cloth apron for a tool belt which I picked up and held close. The old tools, in excellent condition were like museum pieces of an old era where power tools were only thought of. The cloth tool belt was like an ancient artifact. It had the name of the lumber company: Pape Lumber, which no longer exists of course and a 4 digit phone number beginning with OX. The memories were over whelming and at same time as tears flowed, so did my smile grow. So very proud of my heritage and loved Dad so much. I wanted to call my brother and sister and tell them of this but could not, but will share with them our memories at a later date. The last year we had together was wonderful even though painful. I reminded Rosemary to enjoy what she can, when she can, for despite the frustration and loss of patience, there will be a day when she wishes they were here to talk to, to share with and to cherish with. I remember my dad smile and presence and odour and above all his influence he had on my life. I am my father's son.

Have to go now, Rosemary's parents are sitting in their family room watching a blank screen on their tv. They have forgotten how to turn the power on  and switch it to their one channel they watch. Sometimes they just sit there, mostly in the dark til it's time for bed, about 7:30. Yes I know, sad.