Dad is 81 years young.  My brother, his family, and I had lunch with my mom and dad on Dad’s birthday in July.  We met at a restaurant.  When I sat down at the table, my brother and Dad were talking about purchasing lumber for a new construction project.  My mom immediately chastised my dad about buying lumber he didn’t need.  Dad told Mom he might need to build another barn.  When Mom left the table later to go to the bathroom, Dad confided in us that he was bidding on another section of ranch land and thinking about expanding his herd of cattle. 

At a time when many people would be talking about slowing down or making plans to downsize, my dad is still planning like he is immortal.  Dad doesn’t realize that our culture thinks he should go home and put his feet up in a recliner or watch the sun set from his back porch.  Dad just doesn’t get it. 

Dad grew up believing that a man should work until a man can’t work. 

Last week, Dad fell while working on a construction project.  He landed on a concrete footer and fractured a vertebrae in the center of his back.  Mom (who is visually challenged) drove dad to the emergency room in the neighboring town.  The ER doctor sent dad home with pain medication for two days and told him to rest. 

When my brother and I found out about Dad’s accident, we decided to drive up and check on him.  I thought I was probably being overprotective, but something just seemed a little out of sorts.  The next morning I picked my brother up and drove toward home. 

While my brother and I were driving, my dad decided that he needed to go back and check on his construction project.  Dad was in tremendous pain and was moving “ten times” slower than normal by his own admission, but somehow he shuffled across the street and down two houses to check on the construction project. 

He told mom he needed to check on the project before my brother and I got there because we would be upset with him if we knew he was checking on the project.  At the same time, he assured mom that “when we get old, our kids will take good care of us.”

When we got to Dad’s house, it was evident he was in a lot of pain and needed more medical attention.  Dad didn’t even protest when we told him we thought he needed someone else to look at his back.  His lack of protest confirmed for us how much pain he was experiencing. 

As we followed an ambulance, Mom confessed that dad had checked on the construction project and that he said we would take good care of him when he got old, I found myself thinking “I hope my dad never gets old.” 

I don’t think the number of candles on a cake makes a man old.  My dad doesn’t see himself as old and he keeps right on living like he is a young man. 

I’ll take very good care of Dad if he ever gets old, but today I want to believe that he won’t ever get too old to sneak out to check on a construction project. 

P.S. I won’t be upset if dad sneaks out to check on construction projects, but I think it’s better if he doesn’t know that.  No telling what he would do if he knew we secretly approved of his projects.

This entry was posted on Friday, September 25th, 2009 at 7:07 pm and is filed under Blog. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.