Bedside Notes

List Poem Fragment

Feb 16, 2024

Poem Fragment

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published

Top 3 Things That My Father and I Share
by Chris Bodor

1) Bunion (Dad, left foot. Me, right)
2) Dupuytren contracture (aka Viking disease)
3) A deviated septum

Dad did not look right on Sunday February 4th, when I knocked on his door. I was on time for our 9:00 a.m. coffee catch up at his house. I located the spare key and opened the door to his kitchen, calling his name as I entered. His voice called out from his master bathroom. I was thinking I had caught him on the throne, so I reassured him that he should take his time.

Meanwhile I proceeded to fire up his eighth cup coffee pot but I could not get it to turn on. I called out a few times about not being able to get power to the coffee pot, even though the rest of the house seemed to have electricity. My dad was focused on getting dressed in his bedroom and he offered no assistance or clues about why the coffee pot had stopped working.

I powered up the coffee pot, with no problem, on the other side of the kitchen. With the pot brewing I went to properly greet my father, who was now fully dresses and sitting in his blue recliner.

“Dad, how are you feeling?” I asked

“Not good,” said my father. “I need bread, and milk, and eggs.”

I told him that I had poured him a cup of coffee in the kitchen and he should come and sit and have some breakfast, and then I would drive him to the grocery store. Dad had turned eighty-eight six months ago and did not get his driver’s licence renewed on his last birthday. Since then, he begrudgingly relying on the kindness of friends and relatives for rides, but he refused to spend fifteen bucks on a one way taxi ride.

I was starting to stress, because I always left my Dad’s house at nine thirty to attend my ten a.m. morning recovery meeting.

“Come on Dad,” I said gently. “Let’s go shopping.”

To be continued.

Author Note:

I am writing out this story in real time, but I am limited by my free time. Dear reader, if you notice any typos, let me know I will correct. Also, since this is a rough draft write, I am open to kind and coaching words during this experience of writing out this story of my father, the fighter.