One Week To Go

Dad's month-long stay always seems like this massive amount of time looming in the distance when we're preparing for his arrival. We've all lived on our own for so long that a month with a parent in the house now seems an alien concept. The time always passes much faster than we anticipate, though, and we're now entering dad's last week here.

Tonight he made a large dinner, but retired to his room with a plate of pasta and garlic bread. He can't miss his favorite show while he's here, "'cause it comes on for a full hour- [he doesn't] get that at home!" We listened to him roar with laughter from behind his closed door as he watched "Two and a Half Men" from 7:00- 8:00 pm.

When he eventually emerged from his room, he was pleased to see that the dishes were done and hobbled into the living room to check on the score of the Celtics game. Watching sports reminded him that he hadn't yet placed his bets on this week's golf tournaments and he told me to fetch the laptop and look up who would be playing. Unfortunately for dad, I was in no mood to search the Internet for golf odds and player line ups. I'd been frantically searching through boxes of remnants from my upended apartment looking for my missing USB drives.

Dad doesn't quite understand how the Internet works- he thinks that you can type in "PGA" and find exactly what he wants instantly. Also, his eyesight is poor so as he strains his eyes trying to see what I'm looking at he asks for constant updates on what I've found. Today was my first day back in the office after an extended weekend, so I was already a little moody, and this mood just grew worse as I tried to find what he was looking for.

"See! You got what I wanted and it wasn't that hard," he said after we bounced around between golf websites for half an hour and as I continued to search every drawer for my missing drive.

As he was going to bed I was going through boxes in his room, testing every random drive hoping to find the files I am missing. As I left his room, frustrated beyond belief and heading out for my fifth cigarette on the porch, he said softly, "I really hope you find it, baby doll," and my mood momentarily softened as I kissed him on the forehead before closing the door.