My father, who is 88 years old, normally calls me on Saturday mornings at about the same time, so I usually organize Saturday morning so that I will be sure and be here when he calls. This past Saturday, we had decided to go to Town to have a meal in honor of Mothers Day at about the time he would normally call, so I decided to call him before we left.
He answered the phone and started talking about how he was waiting for my brother to come and pick him up for church. When he got up, he thought it was Sunday and that my brother was coming, so he had gotten dressed in his Sunday-go-to-meetin’ clothes and waited… and waited… and by the time I called him he was beginning to worry that my brother was not coming.
I explained as gently as I could that it was Saturday, and of course he was rather upset and frustrated at himself for getting the days mixed up.
“Boy, am I ever dumb” he says.
“No Dad, you are not dumb. You are almost 89 years old and this sort of thing happens…”
I made light of the fact that he had forgotten it was Saturday and tried as best I could to smooth it out for him and assure him that he wasn’t going crazy.
I don’t know how much good I did. I suspect he fumed at himself for most of the rest of the day.
Fast-forward to this morning. I went to the post office to buy a roll of “Forever Stamps” because the postal service is continuing to hemorrhage money and the cost of a postage stamp is forever going to increase. I intended to pay for the $46 roll of stamps with the $100 bill I had in my money pouch. Only when I went to pay for it, I had some $20 bills but no $100 bill.
The only recent purchase I could remember was buying a card for my uncle who was recovering from an operation. Had I mistakenly given the clerk the $100 thinking it was $1? Had I accidently dropped the $100 in the store when I was getting out the $1 and change and not seen it?
Had I not zipped the money pouch all the way when I set it down in the car? Had some of the money slipped out and worked its way under the seat?
Came home and searched under the seats. I did not find the $100 bill, but I did find a card for a 2007 appointment at the urology clinic for the former owner of the car.
I tossed the wad of old receipts and notes from the car on the dining room table along with other assorted notes and receipts and stuff that has collected there. Richard tried to console me.
I started going through the scraps of paper and putting them in the trash, and then noticed a receipt over by the fruit basket and took a look at it. I had purchased a pair of athletic shoes on May 4. Paid $100 cash.
I have not forgotten that I bought the shoes – the ones am currently wearing have just about fallen apart. I have twice used coated fine cord designed for sewing leather to sew the seams that have come apart, and every time I put them on I think, “Should I just give up and start wearing the new ones now?”