Pass the Soap
I remember when I gave my daughter her first bath, first piggy-back, first walk to kindergarten.
Now the tables are flipped. My 87-year-old stepdad had three strokes since June. He’s alone in Florida, the Mecca for New Englanders. We grew up in snowy, hilly, tree-entombed Connecticut. Florida is the northern snowbirds’ haven for winter sufferers on the northeastern seaboard.
And so many years ago, after divorcing my mother, he moved to Florida when he retired. Land of warmth, alligators, low taxes, high temperatures, oceans on both coasts and cheaper housing. Twenty-five sunny years passed, as did a handful of his Florida friends. Some with the onset of aging moved back to wherever home was. They desired to be closer to original family or birth roots.
My dad was in rehab in Florida and we, the kids, decided it was time to get him closer to one of us. He chose our sister as she is in Connecticut and that is where we grew up. My sister flew to Florida, did all the medical and legal heavy lifting to set the stage for moving him, selling his house and car.
Moving at any time is an ominous, life readjusting undertaking for many reasons; role reversal, financial realities, time constraints, medical issues, bureaucracy, bureaucracy constraints, and then more bureaucratic issues at every turn. But when elderly…not so nice.
My role: Get our dad out of rehab, put him on a plane, deliver him to the assisted living residence, and stay a few nights with him to help in the transition. Bureaucracy required us to be in Connecticut on a certain day and our tickets were purchased to comply.
The rehab doctor discharging him insisted on an oxygen unit accompanying him. I had 12 hours to get that. We got lost on the ride to Tampa airport. My stepdad needed a walker, which we had. The airline provided a super service, a wheelchair, shorter routes to security and expedited help through security. Impossible without them (JetBlue, thank you).
However, things did not fare so well even before the flight. A passenger had passed away on the flight we needed to get on. The expired passenger was wheeled off on a stretcher with a medical team hammering his heart. Not so nice to see.
Required protocols began and the flight departure time lengthened. People became squirrely. Eventually we got on the plane, but as we taxied down the runway, two different women lost their cool and became aggressive and obnoxious. The plane turned around heading back to the terminal with them being threatened with arrest. The passengers booed, cat-called, and threatened them back to an acceptable level of human behavior. We resumed our flight.
Anyway ... it has been a numbing ordeal. A glimpse of life change. A look down that infamous tunnel with the dim light at the end. I suspect it will be my stepdad’s last flight. And once he was officially settled in the residence I did something I have never done before. I gave my stepdad a shower.
How long for each of us before the soap goes from our hands to our children’s hands as they wash us?
Not too long. Not too long.