Well not six days actually. We've been away from home about a week so far with an actual three days on the road and the rest of the time we've been hunkered down visiting with my parents in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado. The Papa took a class this last week down in Carbondale, Colorado at Solar Energy International. This has been a goal of his for years and finally he was able to attend a class specific for science teachers this past week on renewable energy. Being the multi-taskers that we are, we were able to tie in his course with a road trip to see my family.
I brought my laptop and camera and camera cable with grand plans of hooking into my dad's internet connection downloading photos and keeping up with my posts chock full of photos. Well, my old computer cannot access the network and I've no wireless connection. So while I have a plethora of photos taken from the car zooming at 70-plus miles per hour I'm not yet able to post any here. Yet. I think I'll preserve stories from the road for now until I can post a few photos. I am including one photo of my girl on her bike peddling around my parent's driveway before an afternoon storm came in. She moved up a size on her two-wheeler and is feeling mighty proud.
Since we've been at my parents, we have taken some good walks and hit the park. We've helped my parents with a few minor chores around the house that needed attention. Big rains here today which for now has postponed a trip to the pool and biking along the big path near town. But that's just fine. We have games and a piano. And my girl has discovered it. She plays away to her own tune singing songs she's writing in the moment or on the side. I love seeing the thrill on her face when she is making music. Doesn't matter what it sounds like she's pure joy in the moment and she is bringing such joy right to the heart of her Bapa.
We're both having such fun sitting and making music. I am rediscovering my old piano skills and though I have long way to go to get my keyboard fingers back in shape, I love playing again. As a kid, I took lessons for years right up through high school. Never practiced enough; in fact, I'd cram a week's worth of practicing in the hour after I got home from school and before I had to leave for piano class. I'd shrink as I walked into my lesson hoping my teacher wouldn't notice that I'd not practiced enough but she always did. And she let me know it, which sucked. I cried more than once in shame for not practicing enough. I never let it sink in that when I did practice, I played well and had fun. I played mostly classical and a little jazz and blues. What I loved most was playing boogie style blues and improvising with the notes I knew. I loved making my own sound. Then and now.
My dad just dug out a book that's perfect for beginners which I consider myself now. I'm studying, relearning notes and finding my way to reach for a chord or two. I have dreams of being able to sit down with friends and jamming.
I'm glad to spend this time with my parents. With my Dad in particular who is nearing eight-five. He is healthy(knocking right now on every piece of wood around here), but his mind is changing. He is hard of hearing in one ear and deaf in the other but thankfully has a decent hearing aid which helps him hear somewhat with one ear. Talk softly into his ear and he can hear you.
My dad always a quiet gentle man is more quiet now. I like to be with him, helping him organize his office, walking, talking some and just being together. He knows his memory is not the same. He knows he needs to practice reading aloud to get words in his mouth. He knows he needs to be practicing the piano and reading complex articles. He know he needs to exercise his mind like with the diligence he exercises the rest of his muscle. He knows his mind is not the same because he tells me so.
When I am not here, we write each other daily telling of our day. I started doing this with my Dad last year when I noticed more change in his writing. He is open always about how much he loves us his children and grandchildren and of course my mom. Never an hour goes by without him telling us how special we are to him. My Dad is a brilliant man, a retired professor who taught post-graduate studies in foreign policy. He changed careers in his forties, got his Masters then PhD with at least six of the seven kids in our family at home all while working full-time. And though I was very young, I remember he was there to say goodnight. Yep, I feel grateful for my dad.
I know my Dad's mind is not the same but I also know he is here right now. I know we don't talk in as much detail as we once did but we talk and our connection has not changed. He is well. Aware. Loving. Present. To be here now with him is a gift.
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