the good deed doer

Part of the reason I have given up a chunk of my time with Rob is that I have a handful of fairly needy family members right now.

Last weekend I visited my dad in the hospital where it appears he will live the rest of his days. I spent an hour or so making conversation and trying to make his day. Our lives are worlds apart with little in common besides our blood (and nice feet). But he is my father and it feels good to visit him every couple weeks, hopefully adding some brightness to his dismal existence.

After seeing Dad, I went to visit my uncle in the apartment where he lives/lived with my dad. My uncle is now in his 80s and hooked up to oxygen 24/7. I know it's been difficult for him to even walk across a room, let alone clean or cook, so I offered to help him out for a couple hours. And what did he want me to do to help him out?

Wash and iron his shirts.

He's always been the Felix Unger type. Anal, somewhat controlling. In fact I always suspected he was gay, not that I cared. Anyway, so he sat in a chair and I held up his shirts one by one as he decided whether or not they needed washing. Turns out 22 of them did. I packed them up to take them home.

Then I got him some breakfast. I couldn't bear the thought of him taking a half hour to walk to the kitchen , resting 3 times on the way, only to pour himself a bowl of cereal (12 wheat squares please) and a glass (8 oz please) of orange juice (shake the carton first please). I was happy to help.

While he ate I got my bucket of cleaning stuff out of my trunk and went to town on their bathroom. God helped me, of that I am sure. Now I know I am going to heaven...I have earned it. I scrubbed while holding my breath for over an hour. Plus I broke a sweat! But I did it. I was happy to help. Lord knows that bathroom has never been cleaner. And probably never will be.

I said goodbye to my uncle. He was very thankful. I was very thankful to have the chance to help him out.

I went home and washed those shirts, then I ironed them one by one. I couldn't stop thinking the whole time that my uncle would not have the chance to even wear those shirts. But I pressed them and buttoned the collars, and hung them one by one. I was happy to help.