By Kevin
I spent most of Saturday (8/18) with Dad. There was a
San Francisco Pelican Fleet 1 race that day, and I had decided to start the races since I didn't think Dad could (he still can't use his right hand), and he has been the Race Committee for several years. No one from Fleet 1 replied to my email asking for someone to run the race.
I called Dad on Friday and reminded him that I would be stopping by his house Saturday morning around 9. He asked why, and I reminded him about the Pelican race, and that I would pick up the flags, horn, and other things necessary for running the race. I asked him if he would like to go to the race. He said not being able to drive would make it difficult for him to go, and I said I could drive him there when I pick up the race stuff. He said he thought he would go, and would get the race stuff ready.
I arrived at 9:30 (called him at 9:15 to say I would be late) and everything was ready to go, but
I notice his right hand is swollen again. (I also notice that the
planters have been moved that I had placed to block the path he has fallen on twice. Not sure if the gardener did it, and if Dad asked him to. I leave them where they are.) The last time I saw his right hand the swelling had gone down. He said he hasn't been keeping it up above his heart. He wanted to pay me for his bills that Margaret paid (I brought them so he would file them). He can't write his signature to write checks, so we have been paying his bills. I didn't know the total, it would take some time to add it up, and I was anxious to get to the race, so I told him we could do it when we returned.
After I loaded the race stuff in the car and we drove away, he says he hasn't had breakfast and would like to stop somewhere. I suggested the nearby McDonald's drive-through, and he thought that would be fine.
He ate the Egg McMuffin and Sausage in the car, and saved the large coffee for when it had cooled.
We arrive at the Marina Bay Yacht Harbor around 10, and walk over to the launch ramp, but don't see any Pelicans in the large parking lot. Then one arrived, and we saw another and said hello. We also see a member who told me Friday night he could help with the races. We setup chairs and the race stuff away from the ramp near the place we will use for the start line. We race inside the marina's breakwater, which has a lot of room. There are 4 boats that will race. Dad didn't bring a hat so I give him one of mine. As I put on sunscreen I ask him if he wants any and he says he doesn't, though he's sure to get a burn since we're sitting in the sun.
The first race goes well, but it gets so windy, and the waves are splashing in their faces, that one skipper decides to call it quits.
We all get together for bag lunches. Everyone says hello to Dad, and he tells them about injuring his right hand, and shows his swollen hand. He shakes people's hands with his left hand. People talk about racing, the upcoming race at Tomales Bay, electric cars, etc. I have Dad sit near people so he can hear better, but he doesn't join in the conversations. I'm not sure if he can hear them. One person comes over to sit by Dad and talk with him, which was very nice.
I brought an extra sandwich for Dad, but he says he's not hungry. I have a water bottle to give him since he's finished his coffee, and will probably be thirsty.
For the second race it's still too windy (10mph with gusts over that) for one skipper and crew, so they sit it out, and decide it's not going to get calmer, so take their boat out.
For the third race, one skipper needs to head home, so they take their boat out. They had offered the skipper duties to the guy helping me run the race, but he's too nervous about the high winds and sailing an unfamiliar boat. The third race ends up being a tie-breaker for the remaining boats that had been tied for 2nd.
After loading up the car, Dad decides to stay at the car rather than walking the 100 yards or so to say goodbye with me to people getting their boats ready to leave.
When we return to Dad's house, I tell him I'll keep the race flags, etc. with me in case he doesn't want to go to the next race. He agrees that's a good idea, but says he would like to go to the next local race at Half Moon Bay since he enjoys watching the kids playing on the beach.
He wants to pay me for the bills Margaret paid by having me write his name on one of his checks. I tell him I'd rather not do that since it's not legal, and we can either wait for him to be able to write his name (or a reasonable facsimile) or he can go to his bank and get cash and give it to us sometime.
While he's in the bathroom I put a
spare house key in a lock box like realtors use that the medical alert people supplied. I put it around the kitchen door knob. If Dad activates the system (
he has an emergency button in bedroom, in the bathroom, and in the kitchen on the base unit) they will give the combination to first responders so they don't need to break down the door. I show it to him, and describe how it's used, and he thinks it's a good idea.
I also give him a device Margaret found on Amazon that will
help him put on his socks. Dad had told us how difficult it is to get his socks on. He takes a look at the pictures on the box, and thinks it will be a big help.
I update his calendar with the
blood draw that a nurse will do at his home on Monday, and an appointment he has on Friday in Richmond with a surgeon about his hand. I point out the appointments, and plan to call him Thursday to remind him about the Friday appointment since I think it could be important to healing his hand.
He asks me to open a couple of his pill bottles, and I see he's not taking the pills from the weekly pill holder we gave him. It seems
he's just in the habit of taking pills from the bottles. I forget to do the usual check for spoiled food in his refrigerator, and check to see if he's eating the frozen dinners Margaret got for him. But I asked him if he needs any groceries (Margaret can have them delivered) and he says he's fine.
I ask him if he'd like to go to dinner, and he says he's hungry, so we get in my car and I ask him where he'd like to go. He says I can get on the freeway and head North. He says a couple of times during the day that he appreciates me spending nearly a full day with him.
I ask him if he has thought any more about
going to Boulder City (a week or so ago he said he wanted to go there before he died). He laughs and says no. I ask him if he'd like to fly, or I could drive.
He says he doesn't need to go there, and jokes that he shouldn't mention things like that to me. I ask him if he doesn't want to go to Boulder City if there is a place he'd like to go, and he just laughs.
I follow his directions to a Sizzler, and he says
he doesn't know why he can't remember the name, which is why he didn't tell me sooner. One of the cashiers recognizes him and he orders a healthy chicken dinner with a potato and a salad (though he asks for butter and sour cream on the potato, and puts lots of ranch dressing on the salad, but it's what he likes to eat). I order the same without the extras.
I have us sit where we can watch the Oakland Raider game over each other's shoulders (I make sure he's sitting closer to one of the screens). When the food arrives I cut up his chicken and only half of his potato since he thinks that's all he'll eat.
I ask him how old he was when he lived at Bolder City and after thinking for a while he says 7 or 8. I asked him what Grandfather did while there, and he said Grandfather worked on the trucks, which is what I remembered. I asked him about playing in the water around the trees, which I remembered him describing, and he said there were troughs around the planted trees that would be filled with water, and they would play in the mud. I asked him about swimming in the Colorado river, and he just said he did. I asked if the current was very strong, and he said it wasn't where they were. I asked him if he remembered the address of the house he lived in, and he said he never wrote letters there, so he didn't remember. I told him there was a museum there, and they may have records that would tell where he lived.
He didn't want to take home the half of the potato he didn't eat, but gave his leftover chicken to me to add to my leftovers. He mentions how messy an eater Katie was when she was a baby, and says he has gotten that way, though I don't say that
it's not easy to be right-handed and eat a salad with your left hand!
When we get back to his place he says I should probably get going home since it will be a long trip (usually about an hour and 15 minutes), so we say goodbye and I leave.
