Otousan
my father is a man of almost 80 years in this life. he influenced my direction into the world of art. he has always collected original art ever since i can recall. he used to buy paintings when i was very young and tell me one day they would be mine…problem is his taste in art does not reflect mine! nevertheless he still taught me the principles of recognizing true quality and passion in any medium, whether it moved me or not emotionally was something i learned on my own as i grew. i suppose this is how it works for most people…to learn and understand the process’s and history of art and narrow it to the medium and style that moves your soul.
today i brought my father home from the hospital with a knee replacement. first off the surgery was a success and he was only in the hospital two nights! impressive for a man his age and with diabetes. when i visited him after his surgery he was in obvious medication oblivion, so i left in the afternoon taking mom home. mom went back in the the late afternoon and all was well, dad had gotten up to take a few steps with his new knee! the following day i was back in the shop working and mom spent most of her day with dad, again things seemed fine however i could tell by just looking at mom that she was exhausted…and she seemed worried.
this morning we went together and were just turning the corner into his ward when i saw him two feet in front of me walking like a crazed man from a mob after him! imagine…the visual of an old man skin and bones, six feet tall in a hospital gown, white hair with an expression of anger, bewilderment and excitement to see faces he recognized! the first words out of his mouth upon seeing me were “get me the fuck out of here” and running behind him was a physical therapist trying to keep up with him! oh yes, and he was moving at such a fast speed with his walker too. i have to give him props for learning and mastering the use of a walker within twenty-four hours! we sat down in the hallway because he did not want to go back to his room and i asked him what had gotten him so upset. “these people are playing tricks on me. last night i walked forty flights of steps (mind you, this is a one story hospital) and when i reached the bottom they were clapping because i was doing so good with my walker. then they made me go into this room where there were three bottles of urine and i asked them what it was..so this guy tells me to drink it cause it’s only water. that’s when i knew this was a dirty trick…i don’t want to be here another night i can’t take another night here with these zombies. when i awoke sometime in the night someone had changed my clothes! god damn it, they have no right to do that..you can’t leave here. i am not staying here!” that is when i decided i had better have a talk with the charge nurse and find out what the hell he is talking about. the charge nurse is a robust woman in her mid fifty’s i’d say, obviously overworked and under staffed, as i waited to speak to her two nurses came up with emergency situations and fluster arose! when i finally did speak she was incredibly patient and attentive, astonishing with the chaotic environment. this is how the conversation went: “hello, my father in room 981, with the last name of C O L D I T Z ,he’s telling me some stories of which i am not sure what he is talking about. do you know, were there any issues that the staff had with him last night? hmm, well let me look up his records…oh, uhuh, yes, hmm, well, it seems your father awoke sometime in the night around 10:50pm and tried to leave the ward, he used his walker as a weapon and then when staff tried to calm him he started throwing urine at them, that is when we called security. we finally got him back to his room and bed and administered insulin and monitored him till he fell asleep. really i said? ya know he was talking about zombies..oh yes honey, i have aging parents myself and we are used to this here. it is sometimes a normal response for seniors to become disoriented and psychosis can happen. i’m sure the zombies he was refering to were the staff!” well, for some reason i did not feel better with this knowledge. i had never seen my father so incoherent even at his worst! i could tell mom was equally as upset with this news. everytime i tried to tell him what truly happened like “dad, you were basically sleep walking last night. that is why you don’t remember having had your clothes changed and….no, they are lieing hazel, that is not what happened but i can’t win this one.”
winning for dad was and is something he actually prides. i on the other hand had long ago given up the need or desire to win at anything, thanks be to having a Buddha nature in my mom she balanced things out! funny thing i can still remember dad taking me to ALL my swim meets and practices and how competitive i was back then. to make matters worse i was inherently good at sports and am the middle child between brothers, so ya i can be a bad ass!
as i type these words dad is resting inside his home with mom by his side, afraid to leave him. she said to me as i was leaving…”i’m not sure what to do…laugh or cry”.
as tears well up for me i can easily cry and still laugh. he is such an amazing man. he role modeled strength, not the physical strength but mental. emotionally…what can i say, he’s half german and mom is full japanesey! oh lord the two powerful forces of repression, tho that is another tale……
i love you dad.