Banged himself up good on Saturday; waits four days before going to the doctor. He has cracked a vertebra in his neck and needs surgery. Like now.
I admire his desire to be independent, but this is a little too risky for me.
One month later. Dad is recovering slowly, realizing finally that it's going to be along haul, but now committed to the effort that it's going to take if he wants to be able to live independently. Hang in there, Dad.
Riding past the local Catholic church with Robert this morning, watching two elderly parishioners struggle to get up the dozen steps to the front door, he remarked, "Getting old must really suck." That gave me an opening to share with him a little about how getting old is not so bad if you consider the alternative.
Two months + and recovery continues. Getting old is a bitch, isn't it? Dad is not one to get knocked down very easily, though. He continues to get stronger and gain back the weight he lost.
He has a will to live like a tree has.
Drove 3000 miles to Fargo and back to see him for a few days. Sneaked a martini into the nursing home, and made his day. We talked about high school - his and mine - and played a lot of cribbage.
There is nothing more precious than time.