The Plot Before the Fall

 

When Dad reached his mid to late eighties,

dementia began to affect his mind. My older

brother, Mark, who lived with and took care of

him tells of the antics he would pull now and

again.

There were times when Dad craved special

attention, and brother Mark was in another

room. Dad would carefully lay his walker down

on the carpet and place himself prostrate next

to it pretending to have taken a fall.

Dad would then yell out to Mark, “Help! Help

me I’ve fallen! And Mark entering the room

where Dad was could see he was not injured

and that he and his walker were conveniently

placed in close proximity to one another.

Of course Mark went along with the preconceived

ordeal, and would hoist Dad back up to his feet.

Playing along, Mark said to him, “Next time, Dad,

be more careful.”

Either forgetting or intentionally not paying heed

to Mark’s warning, Dad would repeat his deceptive

maneuver several times a week.

Now where does this all lead, you may be asking

yourself? Well, long story short, I am myself disabled

at seventy-three, and I too use a walker or cane to

get around at home. I live alone and still pretty much

still take care of myself.

In earlier years, I can’t tell you how many times people

who knew us have said how much I take after my dad.

Now, I have taken a fall or two myself. While I do suffer

with memory loss now and again, I still have the where-

withal to know that should I fall, I damn well better be

prepared to get up off my ass by myself. I don’t have a

brother Mark around to answer my calls for help.

I can see why Dad did what he did, though. Neither of

us cared for Mark very much in the first place. And I can

see where playing tricks on him once in a while would

be good for a chuckle anyway.

Like Dad, I may be old and infirmed. And one thing is

for certain, I still have the presence of mind to know

good joke when I see one.

                                        -30-

Chris Hanch 11-28-2020