It’s an interesting switch when kids become the disciplinarians of their parents.
After my dad’s morning nap, he was a little restless so I suggested a few laps back and forth on my parent’s front porch for some fresh air. Before I knew it, our foray on the front porch turned into this:
When my younger brother had open heart surgery in 1982, our entire family went along to Vancouver for the operation. When we got home two weeks later, he was not allowed to ride his bike (the worst possible punishment in the universe for him). Lyndon somehow convinced my Mom to let him “just sit” on his bike in the garage…. and three days later was caught flying across home made ramps and jumps in the vacant lot next door. Needless to say, an iron fist came down and the bike “rested” for a few days without him (!).
Today, my dad walked around his garden “just to look”. While he did just fine and the fresh air was wonderful for both body and soul, I have a feeling that keeping him from working in his garden might be a battle that requires a similar iron fist! As you can see, he looks pretty good and is steady on his feet. The red heart pillow he’s clutching provides support to his chest when he coughs or strains in any way (like getting up out of a chair, for example).
|Gardener on hiatus checking out the work of his #1 weeding assistant|
My dad was a little stiff today, but also a walked a little further, ate a little more, and said he felt a little stronger. He’s not ready to hoe his corn patch, but he continues to do really well.