1/02/2008

Happy New Year or How I Almost Did My Father In

Happy New Year from Moose, Bunny and Kitty

It was an interesting visit with Dad over Christmas, 99% of the excitement happening prior to his arrival and on the day he was leaving. In between, it was very slow. Dad’s slowed down a lot, even in the last year, although he just had a big surgery last year and I think he’s still rebounding. But more about that another time.

The Holiday started off when I lost my dad. Yep. Lost him. For nearly 3 hours, somewhere between JFK and the apartment. Try calling your brother to tell him you’ve lost your dad. Of course, I don’t think Al really believed me for a while.

So here’s the deal. It was one of those ‘if it can go wrong…it willkinda days. At 11:08am a cold hit me. You know how that is. One minute you’re going along all normal-like, and then WHAM! You feel the fever, your nose takes off like it thought its job was to alleviate the drought in Atlanta, and you keep looking for the steamroller that just ran you over on your way to the printer. Yuck. So I decided I’d catch the 5:15pm train instead of the 5:58pm and get home.

Now Alberta had been recruited to house sit and wait for dad’s arrival. His flight from Heathrow came in at 4:48. I figured an hour for customs, baggage claim and to find a taxi. Then a 45 min to 1 hour drive from the airport to Park Slope – making his arrival time at the apartment around 6:45pm. So Ali was on lookout. Good thing she was there. My 5:15pm never left Philly until 5:45pm, so I didn’t get to Penn Station until 7:20pm.

At 6:20pm I call Ali to see how she was. As we talked, the cab driver called asking for directions to Park Slope. Since part of their licensing is that they are supposed to know this stuff I was annoyed, but glad I was on the phone (Ali doesn’t drive). So she relayed directions from me to him and we figured dad was all set. Ha!

I get to Manhattan at 7:20pm, then police action on the “F” train means I don’t get to Brooklyn until 8:10pm. I get above ground and call Lynne (who is home now) to see if dad is settled and if they want to go out to eat. Lynne informs me that he’s not there. It is almost 2 hours since I talked to the cabbie and dad was already in route at that time. I tell Lynne I’m going to wait outside of the house for dad to arrive. Istart hypothesizing a myriad of reasons why dad’s not yet there, and Lynne successfully lies to me and agrees that “yes, the traffic is really bad tonight – it was awful in the city,” and “yes it rained earlier and that probably tied up things on the Belt Parkway,” and “I’m sure that he’s just not rushing and will turn up any minute.” It’s good to have someone you love lie to you when you’re under duress.

I call my brother, who is an excellent problem solver: do I have the cab number (nope, never thought to ask), can I *69 and get the cabbie’s cell phone number (nope, I called afterwards so it’s lost), do the NYC police require you to wait 24 or 36 hours before you can file a missing person’s report? Do any of you watch that show “Missing”? 24 hours never seems long on that show. As we approached 8:40pm, I started to think I could file a kidnapping report and that might get a faster response. You can do far too much damage to an 82 year old Brit in 24 hours!

As I ruminated, worried and paced outside the apartment, I noticed a white car that kept stopping at the corner across from our block. It circled three times, like it was looking for something. That’s when the very dim light bulb in my very sniffley head slowly went on. I had forgotten to remind dad to ONLY TAKE A YELLOW CAB! There are a ton of guys who are local limo drivers (some of whom are unlicensed) that are always looking for a fare at the airports!

I jumped off the stoop and started to walk to the corner when who do I see but dad! It’s 8:50pm and he’s exhausted, out of breath and looks awful! It turns out he went to a “policeman” (which could have been anyone in uniform, ‘cause an NYC cop knows better than to encourage a gypsy cab!) and asked where he got a cab. The ‘policeman’ took him outside and hailed a car. When dad asked how much, he told dad that dad’d work that out with the driver on their way (who it turns out is from Long Island; hence no idea as to where Park Slope was!). The driver ends up driving dad to LaGuardia, because “I know my way to Brooklyn from LaGuardia”. Oy-Vay! This is in addition to getting lost on the way to LaGuardia, getting stuck in traffic, etc., etc.

When they finally arrive, the driver can’t find our house #. So he kept circling. This is after he told dad that he’d owe about $200, since he’d been driving dad around for almost 3 hours! Well, the old man (dad) may be tired, but when it comes to money, no one is going to get over on him! He hands the guy the $60 I told him it should cost (if he’d taken a YELLOW CAB). So the guy wants to come upstairs with dad and talk to me about the money. Dad lies and says I’m not home (which I wasn’t). He asks about the woman he talked to (Ali) and dad explains that she is a neighbor who is to let him in, but not a relation. So the guy writes me a note, asking me to find the spirit of Christmas and send him more money. I’m still debating whether I want to download the driving directions from MapQuest and mail them to him. And to think that our cabbies and limos are still fighting the city in court over their refusal to install GPS systems!

So…day one…lose your 82 year old dad who just got off a 7 hour flight (not including the 2 hour train ride to the airport).

On the last day (today)…dad slips in the bathtub and bruises his arm. He insists he didnt hit his head. Lynne, who is still home (thank God for therapist hours!) checks for broken bones. Aye! I convince dad to let me call a car service for him so he has someone to meet him at Heathrow and he can skip the trains and train transfers. Ali takes the afternoon shift (thank God for friends who have p/t jobs) and makes sure he gets into the car service I hired and paid for in advance!

He arrives at 7:50am tomorrow – about 3:00am our time. Flight Tracker says his place is off and over Nova Scotia. God willing all goes well. It should – he’s out of my range now!