I love my dad, all 92 years of him. You know when someone leads off with that statement there is probably a “but”. Well, yes. He has this incredible gift for saying the wrong thing, which he cares not at all about when it is pointed out to him. Jeff and I have been visiting him twice a week during the “pandemic”, which we feel is safer than bringing him to the family dinner right now. We’ve been picking up groceries for him and doing any other errands he needs done. I cook a meal to bring to him and make sure there is enough for two nights. I taught him to use Face Time on his IPad so that he could have some human connection with his granddaughters, who aren’t visiting him right now. After tonight’s dinner was over he said “Wow that was really good. You finally learned to cook.” I think he was kidding but after coming to my house for 10 years for a weekly dinner and bringing food down to his house twice a week a little kindness would have been nice. Then I asked him if he had used Face Time to contact anyone. He said “Nah. I don’t even like that thing. I don’t need to see anyone’s face. I’ll just talk to them like usual.” So there went 45 minutes of entering contacts into his IPad and tutoring him on how to Face Time. And this is pretty much how our visits go. When we got home tonight, however, there was a voicemail message on our landline from my dad. “Thank you so much for tonight. Amd thank you for everything you do for me. It was so nice to have some company. I love you guys so much. Thanks again. I love you.”
I guess he’s forgiven.