Alzheimer Dad

Yesterday was perfect. Gorgeous. 75 degrees. I called my cousin Linda, who is out in Lindenhurst, Long Island. She's got cancer, and is back again, living in the house where she grew up, with her 18 year old son, Patrick, and her father, my Uncle Davie. I asked if I could come out to see her, and she said she wouldn't mind the company. I'm glad she was hanging loose, because the last couple of times I called her, she was booked up for two weeks. Doctors, errands, part time work.. I had a better shot getting an appointment with Dick Cheney. It was an outside chance, I figured, but my original plans had fallen through, and I figured maybe she was hanging loose too.
My first thought for the weekend had been to visit Avis, my ex-husband, and his new best friend, my second cousin Peter, hanging out way upstate in Avis' house, on top of a mountain overlooking the Hudson. I like to go up there sometimes, just to forget about everything for a few days. I thought too, of going to look at a big old abandoned farm, with a pipe dream fantasy of building an artist colony.., but the real estate agent couldn't show it, and Avis and Peter seemed preoccupied, Avis with TV sports, and Peter with moving his stuff out of his ex's place.

Also, I feel weird about leaving my son alone for the weekend.. He used to come up to Avis's with me, in fact, he used to go up to hang with Avis by himself, but now, he is secretly drinking, underage. He wants to be with his party buddies. I don't really like to leave him alone in the house, since he's 17 and one of his crew is a 15 year old who seems to be ducking her mother on the weekends.. I don't need the cops coming to my place, looking for runaways.

Thus, the day trip to visit to my cousin Linda.

Linda is one of a pair of twins, two years older than me. We all lived on Long Island, and spent lots of weekends, summers and holidays together. We went to vacation Bible camp together. We rode bikes, buried canaries and mice, climbed trees, went to the store for ice cream, went to the beach in my mother's car, then going to McDonalds for shakes, hamburgers and french fries with damp bathing suits and sandy feet. We listened to the Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Yellow Polka Dot Bikini, Monster Mash and the Purple People Eater, playing the 45's on Uncle Davie's jukebox in the basement. We put their brother Kevin down the laundry chute, and smoked cigerettes on the roof, hanging out of the twin's bedroom window. My mother had taught me how to hypnotize, and I hypnotized Susan, Linda's sister,when we were 10 and 12.
Then came the teenaged years. Linda went to the woods with a boyfriend and huffed glue. She married a guy who greased his hair back, and collected change from vending machines for a living. I went to her wedding, I think..though I was on another planet by then, smoking cigarettes and pot experimenting with psychedelics and having boyfriends, and living in Queens with my parents..who had moved from the blue collar hatcheries of Suffolk County Long Island.
Anyhow, Linda was in the yard with her dad. She was looking overweight, with thin grey hair growing out. She's now 57. She was looking older. They were setting up patio furniture. Uncle Davie is 83, looking fit and trim, even though he had lost the use of one eye. THey look like a couple. She didn't look as spry as him. He was a lineman for Con Ed. Last visit he spoke of his fear of getting fried up on the poles..When we were kids, we didn't even think that Uncle Davie would fear anything. It seemed strange that he would mention it. Linda agreed to come out for a ride to the beach and lunch.
Linda doesn't drink anymore. I'm so glad. I would see her at family gatherings with a drink in her hand, face red, laughing, sort of out of it...shell shocked after divorce number 2, an impossibility in a very catholic Irish family..an aunt in the Carmelite convent...straw matresses and no visitors except for thru a veil once or twice a year..like Galileo's illegitimate daughter, except the Irish put their legit ones in these places too..or rather, spiritually inclined young ladies used to make that choice for themselves, pre-Vatican Two.
Anyhoo, neither Linda or I were the good girls, Linda having a few affairs, me having many, both having divorces, and both with bouts of alcoholism, mine stopped because of child custody, and her's because of chemotherapy. Neither of us smoke anymore, her's because of cancer, me because of an aneurysm.
We went to 4 restaruants on the beach..none were opened. I 'was concerned for her energy level, and lack of oxygen, which gets depleted thru chemo. Since it's still 3 weeks til Memorial day...they're still fixing up the beach shacks and cafes. It was great tho, people with their kids digging in the sand..no horseflies..like on the North shore...We found the IHOP..the home of comfort food. I needed comfort food. Linda pointed out that I was eligible for the senior menu. ugh..it was good though..After, I offered to do her hair. My mom had been a hairdresser, and did everyone's hair...She said yes. It was cool. She got the color, and I trimmed it up..We took off about 5 years....It was great..Uncle Davie came back from Mass and I told him I felt compelled to cut people's hair...he said maybe it was my mother talking to me from Heaven...

التسميات: Cancer survivors