Dad

Today I called Dad's nursing home.  I just wanted to see how he was doing and how best we could talk to him tomorrow.  We had apprehensions about seeing him on his birthday, because... well frankly... we're still not sure how he will react.

I ended up talking on the phone with I believe, the floor nurse.  She knew me.  I remembered her. 

"Hi.  Len Moelker here.  I'm Adriaan's son".
"Oh hi Len.  Yes, I know you".
"So how's Dad?"
"Oh, he's doing just fine."

That's the same response I get every time.  The accent is strong.  The phone crackles badly so I have a hard time hearing her.  I tell her about the phone and she says it's going on the fritz.  So we talk a bit as best as we can and I ask about the best way to talk to Dad tomorrow.  She likes the idea of us coming to his window.  She will arrange it. 

Then she suggests I talk to Dad on her crackly phone.  She tries to hunt him down, thinks he's wandering around, but finds him in the bathroom.

"Adriaan!  Adriaan!  It's your son Len!"
"Who?"
"Len... your son!  He wants to talk to you on the phone!"
"The what?"
"The phone!  This phone!"
"How does it work?"

I can hear it all... crackly.

I yell at my cell phone, hoping Dad will hear something.

"Hi Dad!  Hi Dad?!  Can you hear me?!"
"Len?  Len?  When do you think you can come over?" 

It cuts deep.

"I can't Dad.  There's this virus that won't..."
"I'm sorry Len.  I can't hear you.  I can't hear you."

The nurse takes the phone, and we say goodbye.

At least he knows me.  But I miss him...