The Box

A dear friend of mine here in WordPress has a son who wanted to share some of his very own collection with my brother, Al. Nothing brings a smile to my brother quicker than coca-cola.

I was informed that this package was going to be mailed out, and I was so excited for Al to receive it, and it was very hard for me to keep my big mouth shut, and not give it away, that he was going to receive a box in the mail for his very own.

Today it arrived. It had been a bad day, as we are starting to have problems with yet a new situation. I won’t go into details, because I don’t want anyone to get squeamish or end up having to run to their bathroom, but it does have to deal with bathroom duties, so we are now trying to figure out better ways to make life easier for him and for me.

So after supper is over, and he is sitting in the living room on the couch, he tunes in on THE BOX. I am noticing but saying nothing, giggling inside, as I can see his brain ticking, wondering who’s it is.

I am the worst at holding back smiles for others, so I had to say, IT’S FOR YOU! I never saw it coming. He started crying. I asked him why the tears bud? He says he is scared to open it because it could be bad, as it wasn’t his birthday. I said, I think people can be nice and do things for you without reason. I explained how I have come to know this very nice lady, and her son wanted you to have something to add to your collection. He still cried. I placed the box over by me, and told him when he was ready, he could open it.

I waited about ten minutes then looked around to him, and he was lying down to watch TV. I must admit, I don’t understand the brain, nor do I understand the intimate details of this wicked Parkinson’s, but he just didn’t get the connection of any of it.

This past week or two, Al has shown much confusion in comprehension. I understand this is a big part of the Parkinson’s. He stares instead of speaking, and when he looks at me, I can see by the blank eyes, there is no one there for a few minutes.

I couldn’t take it. I cursed the disease, and plastered a smile on my face, grabbed a knife, and cut all the tape so he could open it easily. I placed the box in front of him, and said please open it bud, you are going to love it!

It took him forty-five minutes to take the items out of the box, not because he didn’t want to, but I could actually see the slow-timing in his body. The arm reaches for the paper packaging, used to protect the items, and he grabs one by one, with his hand. He lays the empty bag beside him on the couch. I counted by seconds, and it took his hand twenty seconds to release the paper from  his fingers. My heart broke, as I knew he was trying so hard to keep moving, but the brain was not co-operating.

There is one thing my brother knows, and that is each piece of his collection. He knows when he got it, where he got it, how much he paid for it, and how many he has. As he was taking the goodies out of the box, I would ask him if he liked it, or had one like it or anything generally I could think of in order to get some look of excitement from him. To my despair, he told me he didn’t know if he had this collection piece or not. There were no smiles ever from this, but I do know that he liked it by his signals at the end. He took each piece and went to his room, and I can bet right now he is in there comparing them to his pieces, looking at every detail, and using his book to look at the originals.

Thank goodness he did this. If he would have let the gifts set, I would have known he truly wasn’t here with me tonight. I probably won’t see him again until snack time. This will keep him pretty busy, and help him to not think upon himself.

I want to thank-you dear friend for allowing Al to have an evening to enjoy himself. He may not have actually shown it like we do with awes and wow’s and smiles, but I know that he at least still has the ability to feel from within, and connect in his own ways to his coca cola.