Some sort of company
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In my old days, it may happen
now and then that I'm surprised by a condition never known before. Each
epoch of my life had its duties, maybe with the rare exception of my
early childhood. But soon stress set in. Stress to meet the stringent
time table of school days, with short and highly welcome relief on
weekends. Stress with challenging practica and lectures at the
university. Soon stress with three children and especially with conjugal dissonances.
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In
retrospect I would rate most of my busy research activities as
agreeable stress. But stress of a less agreeable kind resurfaced with
the deteriorating health condition of my parents. For 9 years, I spent
three afternoons a week at my parents' house, supervising their 24-h
care. I remember a touching moment 3 years ago, end of September. Me
and my father were sitting alone at cosy winds at the ground floor
balkony. He suddenly got up: "I'll be back soon. I have to look after
something".
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In his cognitive state, such
announcement was not always followed by the respective deeds. He had
pains to get up, pains with the stairway (under my supervision).
Finally, I left him upstairs, looking for whatever he felt pressed to
look for. From downstairs, I could hear him roaming to and fro. After
some time, I rejoined him to check what he was doing. Apparently, he
had finished his exploration: "Nobody there", was his conclusion.
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Nobody there. At present, now and then, I also come to this terminal conclusion. My remedy against this special horror vacui is the radio. It
has its place in the kitchen. Sometimes I 'forget' to turn it off when
I retreat to the sofa in the living room, typing on my notebook.
Although, from the distance, I do not understand most of the words, I
notice the vivid interplay between two human voices. That gives me the feeling of some sort of company.
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8/26 < MLB > 8/26
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