Trump and tractors

Today marks my 15th day in Illinois. I headed this way on Monday, April 24 after receiving a phone call from the ER nurse at the local hospital in my hometown telling me that my 81-year-old father had been admitted with congestive heart failure. It just so happens that my 80-year-old mom was being transferred to a nursing home on the same day to address a damaged knee following a bad fall at my parents’ home the week before.

The past 15 days have brought much strife.

After local doctors confirmed that Dad’s heart was operating at minimal capacity, Dad was sent to a larger facility in a nearby town. More bad news followed. A heart catherization showed extensive blockages in two of his arteries, a leaky valve, and confirmation of a number of other heart issues that have grown worse with age. During the past week, Dad and I have sat at home counting down the minutes until he can go to a more sophisticated cardiac center for a needed, albeit risky, procedure.

In the meantime, Mom has continued to struggle with her injuries and with increasing confusion and signs of dementia. Once or twice a day, I set out for the nursing home to visit and field phone calls in-between visits to help Mom sort out where she is and what’s going on in our lives. We spend time arranging things in her room at the nursing home and talking about things we’ve done over the years–a visit to the Norman Rockwell Exhibit at the Birmingham Museum of Art, seeing the Rockettes Holiday Spectacular one Thanksgiving, our mother-daughter trip to Australia, and other memories that are ingrained in Mom’s mind.

Dad and I pass the days {and nights} talking, reading farm magazines (when he feels up to it) and writing (when I feel up to it), and watching television. Dad’s favorite channels are CNN for coverage of all things political and RFD (standing for Rural Free Delivery, the name of the postal service that delivered directly to rural areas). RFD shows address everything from crop yields to cattle feed to the pleasures of an agrarian life.

“All we watch is Trump and tractors,” I joked to Dad earlier today.

“Yeah, that’s about all there is,” he said with a smirk.

We both know that there’s so much more.

 

 

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