Chasing After Dad

We just spent the last two days at a state brain injury conference in Kearney, Nebraska. That would be Dean, our daughter, and I. It was an action-packed time, full of adventures and felt like a big family reunion, since this was the seventh annual one they have had and we've attended.

We three adults shared a motel room this time, but our daughter didn't object too much until she found out how much her dad snores. She knew after last year what her duties were and thought they would actually be simplified by her being in the same room with us. I don't know how many times last year her dad forgot his room-key and they had to borrow one from the desk or come looking for me in the convention center somewhere.

One time last year we found each other in the vendor area. I'm thinking I spotted them first because they were pretty hard to miss. Dean had on his cowboy hat, a towel draped over his shoulder, and, most noticeable, feet that were bare. They were on their way to or from the pool, but had forgotten his roomkey. I came to recognize our daughter's furtive eye-rolling, a carryover from her teens, and would let her lean in to secretly whisper in my ear, "Mom, you're a saint!"

This year started out with a bang too. Or rather a plop. Dean fell full-body on the sidewalk outside her apartment as we were getting ready to leave. He thought he could step down from a foot-high retaining wall like the rest of us, and of course went down like a dishrag. Fortunately, our son-in-law was there to help hoist his 250 plus-lb. body back to an upright position. He wasn't hurt, but we were all certainly placed on red-alert to watch for falls again this time around.

After the first day's busy agenda, we three headed to the pool and spa in the motel for a little relaxation time. Dean was doing alright in the hot tub and then a quick dip in the pool. And then he wanted to go sit on the patio outdoors. It was early evening and getting rather chilly out there, so our daughter and I remained inside, knowing it was no use trying to change his mind. After letting him sit there in our view through the window for a short while, we knew one of us would have to fetch him back inside before he got too chilled.

Our daughter looked longingly at me and said, "Can you do it, Mom? I've been chasing him all day." I started laughing so hard, I could hardly get out my reply. "Well, I've been chasing him EVERY day!" And then we both about split our guts laughing, one of the best coping tools you can bring with you to a full-of-surprises brain injury convention, especially with characters like our "outlaw cowboy" in attendance.

King of the Remote