Another summer has come and gone. It's labor day, and school is about to start for Rachel. A new year, new students, even a new grade for her. This year she's teaching a 1/2 split.
It's also a new beginning for my father. On Wednesday, I meet with the staff at the Jewish Home to review his progress and prognosis. So far, it doesn't look good.
Oh, he's not sick or anything. He's alert and healthy. His hematoma is healing well, and no other problems have cropped up. But, he just isn't recovering the use of his arm and leg the way we had hoped. He still needs a lot of help just to get in and out of the wheelchair.
And that means that we can't really care for him at home.
As much as I desperately want him to come home, I also recognize that his safety must be taken into consideration. He wouldn't be safe at home.
Unfortunately, we don't know if he'll be able to stay at the Jewish Home. Being the eighth best such establishment in the country, they have a long waiting list. Still, we will give it the old college try. It certainly helps that he is already there, with a bed assigned to him.
Yesterday afternoon, Rachel and I went to visit him for a while. We watched a bit of the Jerry Lewis telethon and then decided to go for a bit of a walk. First, however, Dad wanted to wash his hands.
Okay, so I got him in there, made sure he could reach the water, and put soap on his hand for him. He just sat there. Rachel says he was trying to figure out how to wash his hand without having to ask for help. Eventually I filled up the basin and helped him stick his hand in and wash it.
It was very frustrating for me to see a man who I had always known as someone who could do just about anything he wanted to be unable to accomplish something as simple as washing his hands. I suspect it was even more frustrating for him.
By the time we got him out of the bathroom, it was dinnertime, so we headed over to the dining hall. As we were saying our goodbyes, he asked him if I would be coming back that evening. It hurt me to have to say no, and I think he was disappointed, though he tried not to show it.
I felt bad, but I knew that there was no realistic way that Rachel could go out after dinner and be able to get up in the morning for school. This is one of the hardest parts of this -- not being able to just hang out together as I make dinner, or work, or talk on the phone.
As we were leaving, the woman who sits across from Dad called me aside and told me that "He really misses you when you're not here." It was all I could do to keep a straight face as I told her that I missed him too.
On a happier note, it turns out that the new woman sitting at his table is actually a relative. She's the mother of a woman who married one of Rachel's cousins. It is indeed a small world.