My Father's Hands, Part 1
Plain M&Ms. Without peanuts. They tumble out of the candy dispenser after that cranking sound of the coin lever turning. Because my father inserted the coins, my own hands are free to catch every single piece of candy. It would be a shame if any of them fell wasted on the dark purple carpet.
In the background, I hear the crash of bowling balls hitting pins. It's Monday night, and Dad just finished playing several games with the bowling league from his workplace. He has bagged his bowling ball in the cream-colored bag that matches the special shoes, also cream-colored, that he wears to bowl. My brother, sister, and I follow him to the candy machine before leaving the building for home. The late hour doesn't matter, since we're still too young for school.
I like to watch Dad bowl. Concentration. Graceful moves without a wasted motion. When his right hand releases the ball, it glides down the lane, spinning backwards as it drives toward the pins. Crash! Most of the pins fly violently in every direction, fortunately contained within the structure surrounding them. Only then does my father relax his gaze, expressing either delight or consternation at the results of his roll.
Bowling. Basketball. Tennis. Golf. Baseball. Football. He enjoyed them all, both as a player and a spectator. He once told me that he loved sports because they are so positive. One of his greatest joys since moving to Virginia was watching his grandchildren play football, soccer, basketball, and hockey.
Update
Mom decided to give oxygen to Dad again, and it has calmed him. She is keeping him sedated with morphine and a sedative, which also helps. My sister told me this morning that he is sleeping peacefully.
For the first time, the aide saw edema in his feet this morning. Mom is also waiting for the doctor's report on yesterday's X-ray before deciding whether to give Dad oral antibiotics because of the pneumonia.
Prayer Request
Yesterday, my father choked while drinking a glass of water. By evening, he was coughing and "crackling" as he breathed, and my mother had to give him much more morphine than his normal dose. The night aide requested a visit by the hospice nurse, who came this afternoon. She ordered an X-ray, which they did in my parents' home. The diagnosis: aspirational pneumonia.
I haven't been able to reach my mother yet to get more details. But I ask for your prayers that my father be as comfortable as possible, and that the family stay calm and at peace through all of this.
Names
When Jonathan and I traveled to Ukraine, we took along a book listing all the names in the Bible. "David" was the only name that we decided was off limits, since Jonathan's brother carries that name. We didn't like the idea of two Davids at family gatherings, with constant confusion between them.
Upon meeting our son David, both Jonathan and I agreed that there was no other possible name for him. We had hoped for Daniel, but it just didn't fit him. So we now have David Mihailo Stahlke and David Edward Stahlke whenever the whole family meets together. To add to the connection, David Mihailo is David Edward's godson.
We've tried using "Dave" and "David," but that hasn't been entirely successful. The latest twist is "David, son of Leonard" and "David, son of Jonathan."
Oops
My friend Cindy often comments about how little cream I use in my coffee. That's a good thing . . .
While visiting my parents recently, I needed some milk for my afternoon cup of joe. Looking in the frig, I couldn't find a milk carton but luckily there was still a glass of it left from my father's breakfast. I poured a little bit into my coffee, glad to have something to use.
Later, my mother told the aide to make sure my Dad finished his milk, since he needed the large dose of laxative it contained!
A Sign From God
With eight people in our family, we celebrate a LOT of birthdays. Home-made birthday cakes are our custom, not only due to expense, but also because it's a gift from the cook.
So yesterday morning, for Rachel's 18th birthday, I attempted to make her cake. In our home during the summer, the only possibility of using the oven is early in the morning, before the house gets hot. When I glanced at our pantry, there were unfortunately no cake mixes awaiting me. So I pulled out my general recipe book to see what I could make from scratch with the ingredients at hand. This is usually not a problem, because I stock lots of staples in bulk.
But yesterday was different. We haven't been to the store in awhile, and three key ingredients for cakes were missing: butter, vanilla, and salt!
I searched high and low for a recipe that would work, but to no avail. It was absolutely necessary to BUY Rachel a cake.
History in Our Neighborhood
This morning, I walked on the Prairie Path near our home. This former rail line is now a quiet place to take a hike or bicycle ride. The path goes through the Concordia Cemetery, where I noticed a section with old gravestones standing very close together. Upon reading the dates on the headstones, which were mostly in the 1860s and 1870s, it was clear that infants are buried here.
Today we are fortunate to have medical care that has greatly reduced childhood diseases.
Ukrainian Dance Recital
We just received some photos from Peter's teacher at the School of Ukrainian Dance. The June 1 recital was doubly-scheduled with Adam's high school graduation. Our good friend Mark Waldron took Peter to his recital that day. It's fun to see the costumes the boys wore, looking very much like Cossacks!
Anniversary and Birthday
We had a wonderful party for my parents' 57th wedding anniversary and my niece Annika's 10th birthday. Mom and Dad wore flower garlands created by Annika and her brother Ben, and we enjoyed some very delicious chocolate cake with strawberries and whipped cream. Very festive!
