Artie

I spent the day with my Dad on Thursday. Artie is a creature of habit. He does not like change. In the past few months since my Mom has passed away he has had to experience many changes. For the 1st time in 50 years of marriage, he has had to look at the bills. He is amazed at what is costs for cablevision and what he pays for heating oil. He has not had to carry the stress of making ends meet on a fixed income or paying bills in the winter year after year when he was laid off from the Bricklayers union. At this stage of the game, these are harsh realities.
I am mildly amused as well as saddened by the things he now has to do for himself and the subtle changes that I have seen in him. His Christmas gifts wrapped in cellophane and then gift wrap because unless he got a box at the time of purchase, he will not buy one. He does not see the point in wrapping the colored shirt boxes leftover from last year because they are already printed. My father loves to shop and he is generous. My mother on the other hand hated it. He shopped, she wrapped.
My parents house never had a coffee maker. It was and still is a household of tea drinkers. I have noticed whenever we have gone out for lunch or breakfast, he is now ordering coffee. I bring it to his attention and he tells me it is because he goes out everyday with his friend Connie (a man) for coffee. They go to different diners everyday. The last one taking an hour and 15 minutes to get to when it should have been maybe a 1/2 hour drive. Did I mention Connie is 85 years old? He has been a good friend to my Dad and I know Artie is grateful for his company.
I think the most painful thing he has felt he had to do for himself is to write out Christmas cards. He found a box of cards left over from last year and wrote out a few. I cannot describe the pride and the pain I felt when I myself received a Christmas card from my father. To not see - Love, Mom and Dad inscribed at the bottom of that card actually induced a physical ache. I ached for the loss of my mother and I ached for the sadness my father must have felt writing them. To just see "I love you all - Dad" brought me to tears. When I was card shopping, the reality of never again buying Mom and Dad card was hard enough. This was different. It wasn't just my pain. It was shared pain. The thing about the death of a loved one is that there is nothing you can do about it. You have to somehow, accept the changes and do the best you can. Unless you have experienced it, you have no idea how much it changes your life and all the traditions you have been carrying on so far. Nothing is ever the same. That is all I am going to write today because it is just stirring up too much emotion.
I am expecting my step Daughter from California today, so I will have a new subject to write about in the upcoming days.