Don't worry, it's for the birds

It’s an event no one should miss  – according to Dad anyway. Hummingbirds will officially arrive on Sunday, because the Missouri Conservation calendar says so.

This past week has been spent preparing the feeders, washing the birdbaths and marking off the days until they arrive. Let’s hope they find his house on their way through town, otherwise he may end up drinking the red nectar that he insists on keeping in the fridge.

I was glad he had moved his focus away from worrying about the uncles’ belongings as he passed away suddenly several months ago. Dad and uncle had been roomies, and the sudden transition was hard for him to follow.

We had to move the uncles’ car from the driveway, along with his toolbox from Dad’s back porch, because it was bothering him. He wasn’t sure whose they were, he just knew they weren’t his.

Day to day life for Dad is great as long as something out of the ordinary doesn’t happen. He takes good care of himself and the dog, but when something breaks his routine, the confusion will throw his world into a whirlwind.

With his house half full of things that he knows aren’t his, and the uncle isn’t there to remind him of why they are there – it’s become very bothersome.

He’s started picking out items of the uncles’ that he thinks my boyfriend would like and calls him with the news of a great find that he “bought during the war” or “was a family heirloom.” Their conversations are lengthy as Dad tells him the story behind each item while my boyfriend thanks him profusely for wanting to share them. When I get to Dad’s, he’ll have them neatly placed in a birthday sack to give to my boyfriend. The uncle loved to shop thrift stores so you never know what the great find might be. Anything from a coaster set that doubles as a mini dartboard to a remote controlled helicopter. It’s Dad’s way of getting this stuff out of his house because he’s trying to put his world back to “normal.”

Sometimes, out of the blue, Dad will break through the memory loss and for a few minutes reconnect in order to get his thought across – usually loud and clear.

We were filling up the hummingbird feeder, even though it was already full, when he looked me square in the eyes and asked, “when are you going to put my house back in order?”

My sister and I began boxing the uncles’ belongings – under Dad’s watchful eye – to make sure none of his items were being touched.

This morning he called to report that someone was stealing from him because there are things missing – he wasn’t sure what – but he was pretty sure they were “family heirlooms” or “something he brought home from the war.” Then I reminded him that the hummingbirds were coming tomorrow.

Those hummingbirds better show up – or I might fly the coop.