Third generation pain in the ass

My uncle recruited me to help clean up the house for Nana. I thought it would require just a little straightening. When we got out to his van and there was a steam cleaner in the back, it was clear that I had been Shanghaied.

We got to the house, where my aunt and two of my cousins were already hard at work cleaning every square inch of the house. I staked my claim on the garage. I figured that was the easiest room...just moving around boxes and organizing some tools.

What it became was a trip down memory lane and a learning experience into who Papa really was. Every box was labeled in his handwriting, and not Nana's. She hardly ever went out into the garage.

There was a box of old ledgers (that man kept notes on EVERYTHING in his work). One box was full of postcards letters from his time in the war and times he spend away from Nana working contract construction jobs up north. Another box was full of old pull tabs from the Cherokee Casino. Then came the big shocker. Underneath everything were five boxes, each marked with the names of me, my brother and each of my cousins. I went straight for my box. Inside were items from my entire childhood. Toys I used to play with, photos from holidays and family reunions, etc. In the bottom of the box, was a black journal. MY black journal. The one that I threw at Papa when we had our big fight years ago. I flipped through the first few pages and came to one conclusion: I wanted to go back in time and kick my own ass. Geez, I was a moody little shit.

"I see your cleaning technique hasn't improved much." I heard coming from behind the stack of boxes behind me. I peered behind them and it was my brother Henry. I hadn't seen him since last Christmas. I made a half-assed attempt to jump over the boxes and gave him a hug. We got caught up while he helped me get through all of the boxes and finish cleaning the garage.

Henry really wanted to get down to the hospital, so I offered to drive him there. On our way, we stopped to get a bite to eat at Ed Walkers. Our dad used to take us there every couple weeks for french dips and root beer, which is what we both ordered without looking at a menu.

We both chatted about our lives, how it's been so long since we seen each other, how I need to get over to see him and the kids (and vice versa). We were both in a kind of a rush to get to the hospital, but then again, I had a feeling Henry wasn't quite prepared for what he was about to see in that hospital room.

Once we actually got to the hospital, Henry was in the same state of deja vu I was two nights ago. In the hallway, passing the ICU ward that our father was in years ago, he paused and asked "Isn't that where-" I interrupted him, "Yes, it is."

Just before we entered Papa's room, Henry took a deep breath. I put my hand on his shoulder and told him it'll be alright. I knew those words were a bold-faced lie, but it seemed like the right thing to say. We walked in in just enough time to see Papa throw the finger pulse monitor across the room again. Another slap on the arm by Nana straightened him out again. I went over to give Nana a hug while Henry talked to Papa.

After a couple hours, I got the nagging suspicion that I was forgetting something. I stepped out in the hallway to check my messages, but the battery was completely dead. Maybe the gift shop had a charger, or at least a phone card...then it hit me. I have a brother in the next room that works for a cellular phone company...The odds were good that he had a national calling plan.

I borrowed his phone and checked my messages. Two from Grace, one from Sid and one from my boss, asking if I was coming back for the meeting on Tuesday. SHIT! That's what I was forgetting. I called him back and gave him the low-down. I could come back, but I really didn't want to leave Papa. I gave him all the passwords to my computer and my files, and told him everything that needed to be done for the meeting. I owe him, big time.

I went back to the room and offered to stay with Papa so that Nana could get some sleep. She declined, but said she'd like to go get some dinner. Henry offered to take her out somewhere. They left me alone with Papa, who was taking a nap and snoring away. I sat down in the chair at his bedside, accidentally knocking over Nana's knitting bag. It's amazing that something that is full of yarn could make so much noise when it spills on a linoleum floor.

Papa woke up. It took him a couple seconds to realize what was going on. He looked over at me and said "Hi." He asked where Nana was, and I told him. After that part of the conversation lulled, I told him that we were all at the house today cleaning up for when he can come home. He immediately called me on my bullshit. He knew he wasn't coming home.

The time for me to tell him what I needed to tell him. I told him how I found the box in the garage, and about the journal. I couldn't tell if he was playing dumb or if he honestly couldn't remember. I reminded him nonetheless. I wasted no time in saying I'm sorry. I told him I loved him and that I wish I could take back everything I had done and said. With a shaky voice, he asked me to sit down.

"All is forgiven." he told me. "You were a moody little kid, and I'm not gonna pretend I don't know why. Your father was the same way, and he was just like his own father. Your grandmother will back me up on this, Declan. You are a third generation pain in the ass. It's in your blood, sonny."

I tried to tell him that I still feel like shit about it regardless. He was quick to shut me up about it. "It's alright, boy. No need to say anything more. Now, if you really want to make it up to me, get this damned catheter out of me."

I replied, "If that's what it takes, I may have to leave this unresolved."

He laughed and called me a pussy. I was cracking up. I sat down, took his hand and told him, "I love you, Papa."

"I love ya' too, boy. Now, shut the hell up and let me get some sleep."

He fell asleep just as Henri and Nana were getting back. I left to get some coffee, and went back to the family roomMy uncle and cousins had just shown up. I chatted with them for a while, then hacked into thte phone line again to update the blog.