Thoughts on turning 92

Dad will be turning 92 this coming Thursday. As the day approaches, I've been giving it some thought, partly because I doubt I'm going to make it to 92 so I'll take this opportunity.

As I was walking this morning, it occurred to me that dad will have outlived my mom by at least 10 years. I say "at least" because he shows few signs of being in poor health. At this point in time, I wonder if he won't reach 100...thanks in part to modern medicine and good nutrition.

In the spring of 2007, he got a pacemaker and the doctors said the battery would last for eight to 10 years. I remember thinking, "that should last him a lifetime." Now I'm beginning to wonder. He may need a battery replacement after all.

I also remember when dad's 90-some-year-old half brother Glenn would visit mom and dad in Roundup. Glenn had the uncanny ability of falling asleep while holding a conservation with you. Dad doesn't do that but he can fall asleep at a moment's notice. One minute he's watching the Big Bang Theory and laughing and the next minute he's asleep while sitting up on the couch.

This brings me to the topic of dad's cat, "Picasso." Cats like to sleep, especially Picasso. He sleeps all night and he sleeps most of the day. In comparison, dad and his cat have a lot in common. A normal day for dad begins at 7 a.m. with a bowl of corn flakes and cut-up banana. He also swallows about eight pills, which are either for Alzheimer's or his heart. He likes his lunch at noon, and he doesn't seem to be too fussy. If it's on the table, he'll eat it. He also takes three pills with lunch which are an additional heart pill along with a multi-vitamin and an iron pill. For supper, he likes to eat at 6 p.m. and again will eat almost anything. So far, we know he doesn't like asparagus and he's not a big pasta fan. He has another five pills with supper, which are some of the same as his breakfast pills but he also has one for cholesterol. (I'm taken to believe that all Van Dykes take a pill for cholesterol). Dad also requires inhalers in the morning and at night to keep him from wheezing. If I forget to do this, his wheezing breaths will quickly remind me.

He will clear the dishes after every meal and attempt to wash them, even though we will eventually put them in the dish washer. He also cleans the kitty litter every morning and takes the garbage out to the alley in the morning and in the evening, if need be.

On Thursdays, he goes grocery shopping with Belinda and pushes the cart for her. When they get to the checkout line, he not only puts the groceries on the checkout counter, he also arranges the groceries in a manner known only to Grandpa and God. This seems to irritate the cashiers because he is grabbing the ketchup or other items and moving them to the back of the line just about the time the cashier is going to grab it and ring it up. It's an interesting dance to watch.

Belinda works most weekday mornings at the church but that doesn't bother dad because he sleeps most mornings...just like Picasso. As long as lunch is prepared and on the table by noon, he's a happy fellow. If it's not ready, he knows where the candy bar stash is hid and he'll go feed himself.

He likes company as long as he doesn't have to talk. He will sit and listen, and probably nod off. He can't play cards, checkers or Scrabble anymore, but he will sit and watch others play.

So that's what turning 92 is like for dad. Life is comfortable as long as we conform to his schedule.