When Dad says no...go get Grandpa

Sept. 26, 2010

It was probably 10 days ago when I went into the fridge and had to face the reality no cold air was coming out. Our first thought, was to survey costs of buying new versus getting it fixed. Appliance sticker shock set in quickly, and it was time to resort to Plan B…calling my dad.

If there’s an easy fix, he knows it. A not-so-easy fix, he probably has a strategy for it, (probably containing zip ties and duct tape, but darn it, it works), or if he can't fix it, probably buying new is the right answer. I gave the call Sunday night, and Monday morning at 9:30 my fix-it man arrived ready to check out the situation, (who gets service like that these days?)

No one was happier to see Grandpa than Nathan, of course he had other plans for Grandpa’s time. Sure his Disney shows were on, but a visit from Grandpa trumps most anything. I turned Nathan from the TV toward the kitchen so he could see us as steering is still a stumbling point for him.

Taking the lack of attention into his own hands, he turned his walker further, stepped through the dining area, turned down the main hall and headed for the front door. The screen was closed but the main door was open. He got all the way to the doorframe, and was reaching up for the handle, which I knew was beyond his grasp. He would do his little bounce/jump both as effort and effect as the grunt he would give out would show us how bad he was wanting to go outside. I kept my eye on him, but also wanted to do my part in working on the fridge as well.

After 3-4 minutes of not getting his way, I was pleasantly surprised to see Nathan back himself up, turn completely around (in an otherwise tight hallway,) and walk back to where he started watching TV until somebody would pay more attention to him.

We determined that there wasn’t a whole lot of fixing we could do with our functioning freezer, non-functioning fridge. There was a blockage keeping the cold air from getting through, but nothing we could access/see to fix. We decided to take a step back from the issue at hand and try to think of how to fix the problem.

You could see the Carpe diem gleam in Nathan’s eyes as now attention could be thrown his way. Swinging the walker around once again, back he headed down the hallway, waiting for others to follow. He knew I was watching as he looked back when he got to the door. I asked my dad if he was up for a walk and he quickly said yes. The trick was getting past Nathan to hold the door open and get the walker out. I carried the walker out the door, down the two steps and barely got Nathan’s feet on the ground before they were in motion.

Down the walkway, and into the grass, I had the thought, “if he’s in the grass, that will slow him down.” Nope. Those little legs dug in, with all the grunts and power he could put into them. I still needed to grab my keys before the door locked behind me. I put the back brakes on, (still in the grass) having the confidence that would keep him in place as I dashed inside. It took less than 10 seconds, but when I came out I saw the skid marks on the grass where he had moved another two feet.

I locked the front (steering) wheels to help him walk straight, got him down on the sidewalk and off we all went again. I had to stay in front, as I was the one steering, but I didn’t need to say a word to get those little legs kicked into overdrive. We raced to the corner, made the first turn, and headed down the short side of the block. This was routine for Nathan, he wanted to show Grandpa the way.

Travelling at record pace, we hit the next corner in just a couple of minutes. I think Nathan expected me to turn him around and head back for home, but I decided to try something new, turning left and keep going. Nathan had been down this road in his wagon and on his bike, but never in the walker. Nathan took no breaks; he was outside with his Grandpa, he was the happiest kid in the neighborhood.

Still Nathan strode on, every now-and-again, looking back to make sure Grandpa was keeping up. Every now-and-again, something would spark his stride speeding off making me almost trip over myself to keep up. Unchartered territory for the walker, nothing would stop him. Down the sidewalk, making one turn after another only needing help with 5 bumps in the sidewalk the whole way.

Grandpa was impressed, but I was amazed. Annette and I had the notion that maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to walk to the long end of our street before next spring, but with such a hot summer, and fewer things motivating him, we didn’t push too hard. Finally he hit the last corner. We’d still had quite a ways to head down the street, and those little legs must have been getting tired. The other thing I never really realized is that our street has a low-grade decline into a drainage pond at the other side of the street. This meant the last stretch would be the toughest, uphill (albeit only a 1-2 degrees) the whole way.

A couple more pauses came, and I needed to give a little more confidence, as just like his dad, Nathan’s mind and determination seemed stronger than his legs. Still he pushed on. A few hops started coming showing, but he was still doing all of it himself. I laughed at myself thinking to pick him up and carry him the last couple of houses, so Annette wouldn’t miss the first time he walked the whole way around, but I also didn’t want to take the moment away from him.

When he finally reached our driveway, a smile broke on his face. The number didn’t mean anything to Nathan but he just walked eight-tenths of a mile. (For those keeping score at home that’s over 1,400 yards. His previous high was probably around 500.) I went over to help him walk up the driveway, but before I could reach the handle bar, the legs kicked in again, almost saying, “I didn’t need your help to get this far, I don’t need it now.”

I took him out of the walker, went inside and took off the braces and shoes, which now had gaping holes in the toes. Grandpa was proud, but I was almost in tears. I went for my cell-phone (which I was kicking myself for not grabbing when I got my keys) to tell Annette what he just did. She was thrilled for him, a little sad she wasn’t there to see it, but had the comment we all knew was coming, “We need to have Grandpa come over a lot more.”

Later that night, we did find a way to get the fridge working. It also solved the problem which kept our icemaker broken for over a year. Sometimes it’s the little victories which keep us going day after day. With the money we wouldn’t be spending on a new fridge, I think we’ll find room in the budget for a new pair of walking shoes. After all, I think he’s earned them.

Back to previous postings