Laughing With Dad


A couple of weeks ago, my dad, who is seventy -six, had total knee replacement surgery on his left knee. He came through the surgery just fine and although they told him he would be in the hospital five days he was able to leave in three. He had a local anesthetic and was able to see and hear everything that went on in the operating room.

Later in his room, he was laughing as he told the story of hearing the hammer and saw as they took out the bone. With a smile on his face and a mischievous glint in his eye, he advised the Dr's they needed 2 sharpen the saw, since he could smell the bone burning as they removed it, which of course meant the blade was dull.

He came home and is doing the exercises the therapist gave him and even when it hurts he manages to laugh at the pain and make jokes about the new metal knee being heavier, which makes it harder to lift, but lift, bend and move it he does.

The other day, one of the rubber tips on his walker wore out and not wanting to mar the carpet or the kitchen floor, he went to his shop to find a new rubber tip. I was visiting with my mom and after some time had passed we got concerned, so I went out to see if he was ok. I walked into the shop to find him sitting on the stool at his work bench laughing. I asked what in the world he was doing. He proceeded to explain that since the rubber tip he had gone to replace would not fit his walker he was changing legs. It seems Mom's walker, that she had used when she had double knee replacement surgery five years ago, was broken on the top, but the legs were better than the ones on his walker.

I asked what was so funny about that. He said he was stuck. Those legs wouldn't fit and now he couldn't get the one leg he had changed off and he couldn't get back to the house without his walker.

Together my dad, with the bum knee perched on his stool and I, with the crippled arms and hands, worked and worked laughing all the while. The more trouble we had the harder we laughed. We did finally get the walker fixed and got back to the house. We were both tired and feeling the physical pain, but we had created a wonderful soul soothing, heart warning memory. I have been fortunate enough to have many such minutes with my dad.

You have a choice about how you let life affect you. You can moan, groan, wallow in self pity and be miserable. Or, you can focus on things beyond the pain and hurt life brings, find the humor and look for the positives. That is a lesson I have learned from both my parents. If I could go back and pick my parents, I wouldn't hesitate for a minute, I'd pick them.

Bevanne Sinclair 2001

basinclair@webtv.net

I live in the beautiful rocky mountain west and am blessed to have wonderful family and terrific friends. I started writing about two years ago and I love it.

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