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Today I’m going to do something stupid and talk about my family on my podcast. This involves moving my father to a long term health care. I live an hour north west of my father and brother. Instead of going with the location I found that was about half way between the two of us, I went with a location that was an additional 30 minutes in the wrong direction. This means that if I want to see my father I have to drive an hour and a half.

He called on Wednesday and asked for my opinion on moving Dad 90 minutes away from my house, and I said “that will not work, you are going in the wrong direction.” There are tons of places that are between the two of us, or worst case scenario, it if was by his house (that would be an hour away). So on Wednesday I explained how this was absolutely not going to work, and on Friday my brother (having power of attorney) moved him there anyway. This is not only further away from me, its further away from everyone in the city where my Dad lives.  I’m not sure how I’m not supposed to be offended. I’m not sure how I’m not supposed to feel invisible, small, and insignificant. So for probably the first time in 30 years, I’m mad at my brother.

When I visited the “wonderful” site my Dad was moved to. It’s a very nice place, but not that really different from the place that was 40 minutes from my house. The biggest difference was paint. It didn’t look so much like a hospital. It had hospital beds, people in nurses uniforms, wheelchairs, etc, but the walls were beige and green instead of white. So I’m driving an additional 50 minutes for a fashion choice. Don’t get me wrong, its a great facility with a talented loving staff – that just so happens to be 90 minutes from my house.

It’s hard to stay mad at my brother (and I won’t). You see:

My brother was the person was running behind balancing the bike the first time I rode without training wheels

My brother was the person who taught me the immortal phrase “lets go piss” which my mother did not find amusing coming from her four year old.

My brother showed how to play some cords on the guitar.

He was the person who helped me fix my first car.

Took me to my first concert

Bought me my first baseball glove

Was the person who insisted I move in with him when I got divorced/bankrupt

Said it was ok to continue living in his house while I got my second degree.

My brother stood by me at both my weddings

Is the only person on the planet who knows what its like to have Dad as a dad, and my sister as a sister.

He is the person who helped me when I got my first house, first car, first guitar, first girlfriend, first……

So I’ve learned my brother isn’t perfect and he made a bad decision. Its partially my family’s fault. When my Dad went into the hospital we should’ve been looking for a place for him to rehab, but we waited instead 9so we didn’t have the luxury of time to find other alternatives).

So I’ve been here. I’m mad at my brother. So this is what it feels like? OK. Time to put it down. I will… eventually.

Music in this Episode

Mad at You by Joe jackson

No Respect – Extreme

Tags: Family Fued, Nursing Home

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It’s funny when you have young kids. How do they get your attention when they are hungry? They scream and cry. You can shake keys at them, put on Barney (or whatever the latest kid tv is), bounce them on your knee and NOTHING matters unless you solve their one problem: THEY’RE HUNGRY.

This week my father was disgnosed with Colon cancer. It’s a scary place to be and a scary situation to live through. The first night in the hospital, my father had gone through a few tests and he thought they had removed his giant tumor. They hadn’t.  What happened was they did a biopsy, and we needed to wait till the next day to get the results.

I had been telling my wife how you can’t tell me Dad what to do. At 80 years old he knows everything, and nothing will get in his way. He once walked 3 miles to the grocery store. Luckily a friend saw him at the store and gave him a ride home (he hadn’t thought throw how he was going to carry the groceries home).

After visiting him at the hospital that first night, we only made it to the parking lot before Dad had removed his IV, and was preparing to “break out” of the hospital. I turned to my wife and said, “Welcome to the world of my Dad.”

We went back to the hospital, and tried to explain to Dad that there was a tumor still inside him. Thankfully my wife still had her nurses uniform on, and she talked some sense into him. He just wanted to eat. He wanted food, and was not going to stop until he got some.

So there I was with the roles reversed, with a better grip on the “big picture” than my Dad did. I was explaining what to do, and why these actions were what was best for him. Much like a teenager, he thinks he knows everything.

He goes in for surgery on Tuesday, and the road after that will be long and hard. There is no manual for this (except the bible), and it’s going to be tough. No human likes change, and nobody likes getting older, or hearing that they “Can’t” do (insert task here) anymore.

Luckily my wife has lived through this (she onced worked at a nursing home, and obsviously deals with all sorts of situations being a nurse) so she has already been a huge help, but none the less this role reversal will be like a new pair of shoes. They may fit, but they’re not comfortable and will take some breaking in

Tags: parents and kids, role reversal

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Tags: match.com

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I spent the weekend with a bunch of Humor Writer at the Erma Bombeck Writers Workshop. I had an absolute blast. I sat in on a session or two. One was lead by Jerry Zezima (Columnist and author of the book Leave it to Boomer).

I have a new appreciation for authors. I do my little stories with sounds and tone of voice. They have words, and only words.

Jerry gave us an exercise to think about “the Wildest Ride I Ever Had.”

My idea came quickly. I was about and we were at Geauga Lake Amusement park (now closed). There was a big wooden coaster that had been around since the days of Howdy Doody, and you were scared to ride it just by looking at it. Not because it was tall and fast, but because you were pretty sure it was going to collapse. Big Dipper was 65 feet high, 2,680 feet long, and had a top speed of 32 mph.  When built in 1927 it was one of the largest roller coasters in America.

With this in mind, my Dad and I were the only ones to get on the ride. I hadn’t ridden on many roller coasters, and it was cool to actually have my Dad (a long distance truck driver) along for some family fun. I put on my seat belt (with enough room for three other people in it), and grabbed on to the bar that would lock down over my legs.

The genius college kids who ran the ride gave some thumbs up and told us to enjoy the ride. As we were going up the hill, I noticed the bar wasn’t locked. I moved it, thinking it would lock in place. It didn’t. About the time I went to tell my father that it wasn’t locked, the coaster shot over the hill. All I remember is my but trying to pass my head, my feet coming off the floor, and my hands clinging on to the bar that was now vertical instead of horizontal. I screamed. I had planned on screaming as I have heard that if you don’t you can get sick (which I do on these things). I looked at my Dad who grabbed the back of my shirt and yanked me down. He was laughing. Another hill and up I would go. He would laugh and pull me down, much like a two year old plays with a balloon. Up and down, up and down… laugh, laugh,laugh.

To this day, I have no idea why he stayed in the car unless he put his seat belt on tight.  It was one of the few things my father and I did together, and it was a complete nightmare.  This by far was the wildest ride of my life.  Thank God my father was there to give me security that I wasn’t going to die. I could count on him pulling me back into my seat. I was scared, and comforted at the same time.

But Jerry had me thinking outside the box.

I walked into my father’s house which to this day is still weird. It’s where I grew up, and he has let the place go. It’s also weird as I expect to see my mother every time I walk in the kitchen (who passed over 20 years ago).

I had to deliver bad news. I had done all I could. My soon to be ex-wife had refused to go back to marriage counseling, and we had come to the conclusion that the marriage was over. So not only were we going through a bankruptcy but we would add divorce to the mix. This was going to be a wild ride.

My father never really expressed like or dislike for my ex-wife. She did paint his house one summer while I was in school. She cleaned, etc.  Consequently, when I had to explain that my marriage was over, my soon to be ex-wife was a drunk, and a cheater, I didn’t know how it would effect him. The number of serious discussions I’ve had with my father can be counted on one hand probably so this was going to be awkward.

When I delivered the news, he was sorry to hear it.  It turns out he knew what I was going through.  He knew the wild ride I was going to go through (even friendly divorces are ugly, and expensive). He knew first hand.

“I don’t know if you know this (I didn’t), but I was married once before I met your Mom.” I was shocked. It turns out he had married some woman right before going into the air force. As the story goes, while the cat was away the mice did play. So he understands the pain of having someone cheat on you.

Then just like a hand that grabs me and pulls me back into safety he said. “Us Jackson men get very lucky. My brother found a great new wife, my father had found my mother, and he said, “I’m sure you’ll find someone too.”

And I did.

I was scared, and comforted at the same time.

Thanks Dad.

Tags: Aurora Ohio, Big Dipper, Geaugia Lake, Jerry Zezima