TGIM. The weekend began nicely enough. Friday was beautiful, and I took the day off. My in-laws had come to town to help us with the demolition of our old, rotten 3-season porch. I had promised myself not to pick up a crowbar, but intended to see that those wielding crowbars were properly fed, etc.
The dumpster arrived late Friday morning, and God bless 'em, my sixtyish in-laws went right out and started taking out the window, pulling off the siding, and so forth. I made lunch, did the dishes, and looked after the dogs, and that was fine.
On Saturday, we'd asked a couple friends to come over to help, but before they arrived, my wife and her dad were out wrestling with the deck. It was sunny and warm, and I thought I'd go out and help for a bit before the heat of midday. Bad idea: after 20 minutes trying to convince some decking screws to come out, I was bushed and barely able to stand or walk. That pretty much set the tone for the rest of the weekend, which I spent wobbling around trying to get a few things off my to-do list, at the same time being frustrated that everyone but me was steadily moving the old porch and deck from the back yard to the dumpster in the driveway. Even my mother-in-law was outside swinging a sledgehammer around.
The culmination of my weekend was my unsuccessful effort to get out in the boat on Sunday to do some fishing and sulking. I spent a half hour at the landing trying to get the motor running, then had to get the boat back on the trailer. Later efforts at home to get the thing started also failed, leaving me feeling like I had burned up an entire sunny spring 3-day weekend without managing to accomplish either work or recreation. I am now relieved to be in my office at my computer, at least getting a bit of blogging done.
My in-laws are just about the nicest people on Earth, but I can't help but wonder what they think of their increasingly disabled son-in-law. While they were no doubt pleased to see their son-in-law graduate from law school and find gainful employment, I imagine they must worry about what the future holds for him, and for their daughter, who must increasingly take on the role of caregiver.
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2 comments:
boy o boy, do i hear you. your experiences with trying to do too much, with wondering what other people think of the disabled part - all too familiar. it makes me want to close myself away, like what they used to do to the insane child locked in the attic. for my dad, any hint of my increasing disability makes him frantic with worry and a "why is this happening to me (him)" attitude that doesn't help anyone. so i usually try to disguise it. don't ask, don't tell.
anyway, i feel your frustration with watching other people do the heavy lifting - i had my firewood split last fall by my wife and one of her friends. i have no problem with strong women (god bless them!) but that was supposed to be my job - one i used to love doing. argh. sigh. but mostly argh.
Yeah, there are few jobs as satisfying as splitting wood, dropping the maul on a big chunk of tree and seeing it split neatly in two. Argh indeed.
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