I hope you all had a good Christmas.
Even though I was in Utah from Dec. 17 through Dec. 23, I was sick and only able to visit Dad once, so I have a short report again based on that one visit.
My daughter, Christine, my son-in-law, Michael, and I visited Dad on Dec. 18. He was asleep when we came in, which is apparently normal for Dad these days. We walked over to his bed; I touched him on the shoulder and said, “Hi, Dad, it’s Alison.” Without opening his eyes, he said, “Oh, I recognized your voice.” I was so pleased because on the phone it’s hard to tell if he knows who I am.
Dad didn’t open his eyes, so I asked him to open them, and he did.
We told Dad a little about John’s daughter Lisa’s wedding that morning at the Draper temple. It was a cold, windy, rainy day, and John thinks the porticos at the temple simply act as wind tunnels. Dad said, “Oh my!”
We pointed out Christine’s pregnant belly and told Dad that Christine’s pregnant and due in March—something we’ve told him before but that he doesn’t remember. He said, “Oh, how wonderful.”
Michael asked him how he liked the new place he’s in. He didn’t respond. I told Michael I didn’t think Dad knew he was in a new place.
Christine got more of a response from Dad when she told him that their son, Jeffrey, likes to talk about where people were born: he and Oma were born in Provo; Momma was born in California; Daddy and PapaDaddy were born in Louisiana. Dad said, “Where?” Michael told him “New Orleans,” and Dad said, “Oh, uh-huh.” I then chimed in to tell Dad about something I heard on my trip to Utah—I heard someone say, “Nahw Lens.” He chuckled at that. (Dad used to say that he was a teenager before he realized that “Nahw Lens” (where his grandpa could get you anything you wanted) was the same place as New Orleans that he studied about in school!)
Dad had to get up and go to the bathroom, and while the aide was transferring him to a wheelchair, Dad’s pajama bottoms almost fell off him—he’s losing weight.
While I was there, I saw a sheet for the staff to sign up to be a secret Santa for the residents. I was pleased to see that Wendi Mortensen, my friend’s niece who works there, had signed up to be Dad’s secret Santa. It’s good to know she looks in on him daily and loves him too!
She sent another fun picture of Dad—with Santa—in what Mom called Dad’s “teaching pose”—one finger raised as he made a point. (I’ll post it below.)
I’ll visit Dad this next week when I’m again in Utah, and I’ll have a chance to pump the family about how he’s doing. Martha tells me Elaine has a fun story about Dad responding to a joke. I’ll write about all of that in two weeks.
Until then, have a happy New Year and thanks for reading!
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