Since Dad's Decision

We've worked nearly non-stop since Sunday morning moving Dad's 25-plus year accumulation from his rental home. Thank God, he'd been "downsizing" for the last couple years.

The garage and basement were already clear; the one bedroom house was mainly a dust-covered collection of US Coast Guard memorabilia, books and a small amount of kitchen equipment. The only furniture we moved here was his washer/dryer, file cabinet and bookcase.

For the past couple days he's been sorting through most of what we hauled here and made ample use of "the round file." He owned at least 20 jackets and a dozen afghans and most still remain here. There is a memory attached to most of them and it's hard to let go of any so I told him keep what he wants right now and we'll pack the rest away. "Good idea," he said.

Remarkably, my siblings have been civil. The sister I seldom see has had the most contact with us and been the only one, plus my sister-in-law, to help with any of this move.

Tonight Sweetie said he hoped we could find time to install more fence. I said it sounded like a great change of past. My Dad overheard this and said, "Yeah, you guys install fence and I'll watch; I'm tired of sorting." So we're all on the same page.

My Dad was always a big music fan and devoted listener to NPR radio. Yesterday, while Sweetie was in his recliner and I was sacked out on the sofa, we were jolted awake by loud rock 'n roll music. From where we were we could look down the hall. Here's my Dad shuffling down the hall pretending to dance. It was hilarious but the music was on volume 100!!!! I told him the riff-raff lived next door - not here! So he turned around and lowered the volume to 70 - still ear shattering.

My Dad was also a collector of vacuum cleaners. Three remained at his home after he came here in January - a Bissel, an Oreck and a batter powered Shark. We brought the Shark home today and told Dad, "now each of us has a vacuum here." He smiled and said, "I thought I was living in my retirement home."

We have yet to figure out what to do about the dishwasher. I've been lobbying for help in the kitchen and finally said, "My birthday and Mother's Day fall within a week of one another, so a dishwasher would be a nice gift." Sweetie pointed to the bag of paper and foam plates we brought from Dad's. My father said, "You don't need to worry about what model of dishwasher you get. We have the Suzann model and it's the best."

Cute aren't they?