Should I go, or should I stay. This was the question I kept asking myself all the late afternoon. My brother, Al, never came out of his crying mood, so I didn’t know whether we should venture out tonight, but I had promised him unless it rained we would go. It was first Friday downtown, and it was fifties night. There was a dress code of poodle skirts, but I didn’t have one, and I doubt if anyone wanted to see a an old woman with one on. I just wore my shorts. There was also a car show. My brother loves old cars, so anytime I hear of one locally, I try to take him. About an hour before it was time to leave, the power went out. I don’t know what caused it, maybe one of my baby squirrels got on a line, or maybe there was a wreck. It got warm in here, with the fans being off, and it woke Al up from his nap. This didn’t make him a happy camper, being woken up earlier than his plan. I called the power company, and in less than an hour all was back on. No major issues of any kind, except for Al. After listening to much debate about why the power was off, I just looked at him and told him, if he could not get himself under control and try to dry the tears, we would not be able to go. He seriously did be quiet then, but the tears, he tried and tried, and they would not stop. I knew that this part was the Parkinson’s, and I wasn’t going to punish him for something he had no control over. I had asked the new caregiver if she could go along tonight, as my helper. I decided to go ahead and take him. We found a parking spot up town not too far away from the restaurant he wanted to eat in. I got the wheel chair out, and put him safely in it. We took off on our walk to the restaurant where we were to meet the caregiver, Audrey. I didn’t make it a block, and we hit a bump head on, and it threw the wheel chair a bit, and Al got scared. I stopped and consoled him, letting him know I would never hurt him, and that I would be more careful. He seemed satisfied with this, although he hung on to both arms of the wheelchair, until we reached the business. I was a little concerned how we were going to get that wheel chair into the restaurant. I knew this being a special day, the place would be packed. I was not to worry though. The owner knew us and he took the chair and placed it near his cooking area, allowing the caregiver and I to help hold on to Al and sitting him close to the entry door. As soon as we all sit down, his crying appears again. I didn’t know what to say or what to do. The caregiver kept chatting away with him trying to steer him into another direction. It was nice tonight, as I had no stares or remarks from other customers. He finally quit crying when his meal arrived. After leaving the restaurant, the rest of the evening was consumed by looking at the old cars in the car show. Al spoke to everyone, sometimes reaching out to shake their hand. Some did look at him in an odd way, because they didn’t know him, but I believe they recognized his sincerity, so all shook his hands. It was rather cute, I must admit, how easy it is for him to speak to strangers. With me there, I don’t mind so much, but if he were alone, it would worry me. We were there about two hours tonight, and then a passing rain came through, and it got a bit darker, and I didn’t want him to get wet, so we decided to call it a night. All in all, I think he had fun. Here is a picture of one of the cars that Al and us looked at, and another picture of Al and the new part-time caregiver.