violachic

So papa is home from the big fishing trip in the wild with bro Brian. They seemed to have had a good time- Dad caught the biggest fish, but Brian caught more. It became very apparent why Brian caught more after Dad sat down to show me his requisite video tape. The man tried to videotape every moment of the week- every fish caught, every piece of wildlife encountered, every sunset of every day. Ah well. He got a new camera, and I guess its one of those boys-and-their-toys things.

I have to say, living with my dad the last few years has had more ups than downs to it. I pay less rent than I would in an apartment in the city, I get my own bathroom, and a place to park my car. We get along quite well, but I'm really itching to get out of here. Except tonight, I wondered heavily what it would be like for him to live in this house alone when I leave. Not that I'm a caretaker for him or anything, but there are some things I worry about him trying to do with no one else around. For instance, tonight it took the two of us almost thirty minutes to get the boat in the garage. He can't even push the boat by himself, much less get it up the slight incline and angled. I'm afraid of him having a heart attack from just trying to maneuver the boat. And I am increasingly uncomfortable with the fact that he loves to do his own oil changes on his Explorer. He drives them up on ramps, and puts blocks behind the wheel and all, but if something were to start slipping, I'm not sure he could move fast enough to get out from under the car.

I don't know. Maybe I should let it go. He's almost seventy-three, which isn't that old, but I know he's got high blood pressure, diabetes, and prostate problems. It doesn't scare me exactly, but it does worry me.

So, sad that my private time in the house is over, but happy that Dad and Brian are home safely.

Now, if