Just to Keep Things Interesting
Winston Salem, North Carolina
July 30, 2017 2:33pm CST
My dad has always tended to be a a bit secretive and as he navigates the challenges of his twilight years, that doesn’t seem to have changed. When explaining an event or passing on necessary information he’s always been choosy about what he shares and has no qualms about leaving out important details that would change the entire tenor of the narrative. He’s also been known to share information that was completely fabricated in his own imagination. Last week he fell and fractured his hip. The facts of the story were clear, including the following worrying details; he wasn’t using his walker and the “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up” panic button was in his night table instead of on his person. “See, I told you I could get to the button if I needed it,” was his proud announcement. Other less significant details of the event varied according to which of his children was being told. This is nothing new, though as he gets older he’s having a harder and harder time remembering which version of the story he told to which person. Yesterday morning in the hospital he proudly announced to his nurse that my sister and I were his “two youngest daughters.” I don’t think we’ve ever been introduced that way before, but technically the statement was correct. Morley is child #3 and I am child #8 the other sister is child #1. Yesterday evening the other sister joined us at our father’s bedside and when the nurse came into the room he proudly introduced us as his “three youngest daughters”, when the nurse didn’t respond he repeated the statement. Knowing my father, I suspect he was attempting to get the nurse to ask him how many children he has. The nurse didn’t react so the conversation didn’t go any further. I am now curious though, if we are his youngest three daughters is there another sister out there somewhere that we no nothing about? I doubt it. But it has made for entertaining conversation.
16 people like this
You must miss your Dad very much. I lost mine in 2014. I had not been there for him in his state. He was a lovely, jovial, smart, great provider, funny dad. My father sounds like your lovely dad. Make the most of his remaining years with him. You will never regret it.
• United States
Dads can be funny sometimes. My dad once introduced me to a friend as his "second oldest daughter." Which technically I am, but there are only two of us girls, so he could have just as easily said "this is my youngest daughter" instead. I'm sorry your dad broke his hip. I hope he heals swiftly and that from now on he keeps his "I've fallen and I can't get up" panic button on him.