Dad is not “right” as you all know.
In the midst of a crazy conversation before lunch one recent Saturday, I decided to show him and Heather, his home attendant, how far I have gotten in my new goal: a hand stand.
I interrupted Dad’s crazy talk, and in quintessentially child-like manner, I said, “Look at me!!” and I did a facsimile handstand facing a wall.
“What in the hell are you doing? You could hurt yourself!”
I peeled myself down in shock.
Dad, as if snapped back into the present, was being my Dad.
The sheer shock factor brought him back.
Next goal: The tight rope from the Freedom Tower to the nearest high building.
If it doesn’t kill Dad, it may make him sane again.