It's That...That...That...Thing!

December 17th was my dad's 68th birthday. It's only taken 39.5 years and a diagnosis of M.S. for me to finally relate to my father. I mean, really relate - on a peer-to-peer level.

I visited my folks to celebrate his birthday. During the afternoon, as we sat in the living room, my dad told me a story. He pointed at the front window, where the Christmas decorations hung and said, "That thing fell off the window the other day." I said, "Geez, did it scare you?" He replied, "No, what scared me was when I was trying to tell your mom about it. I said to her, ‘I have to go outside and rehang that thing'." He was pointing at the window and demonstrating. He continued, "I told her, I need to hang that round thing. That thing from the front window. That thing with the big bow." My mom must have looked at him quizzically and she asked, "You mean the WREATH?" My dad laughed as he told the story and said, "Yes, it was the wreath."

I told him I had him beat. Many times over.

The other day, I told a coworker that I needed to run out to that thing to get something for them. You know, that white thing. The thing with the four wheels that I drive? Ah, yes, my CAR. Yes, that thing.

On Friday, I said to my husband that I had to run out to the garage to get some food out of that thing. You know, the thing with the two doors and shelves in it. The thing that was really cold inside. Ah, yes, the REFRIGERATOR. Yes, that thing.

Yet another day, I called a co-worker, searching for a word to place into a sentence. I told her it was a synonym of "virile" and the opposite of "weak." She said, "Do you mean the word 'strong'?" Ah, yes, STRONG. I could remember "synonym" and "virile" and "weak", but I couldn't remember the word "strong."

When scoring some of my online writing students' papers, I keep nagging them to make stronger word choices and to strengthen their vocabularies through their projects and papers. I laughed at myself, knowing that right now their vocabularies may just be a tad better than mine.

It's easier when I'm writing. I can take the time to think things through. But in mid-conversation, when the words don't come to me, it's sometimes funny and sometimes embarrassing. I've asked people to refrain from finishing my sentences for me. I must strengthen my brain. I conned a few coworkers into an impromtu game of Scrabble last week. They thought I was just trying to fit in and be cool with the game-playing group. I needed to work my brain, to practice my words. I did a couple of crosswords yesterday. I use this blog and all the writing I do on a daily basis to push my brain, to work my brain, to improve my brain.

So, it took it a few decades and a prognosis of a life-altering disease for me to find a way to truly connect and relate with my dad. Sure, he's a bit older and it's normal for him to forget words. I'm comforted though, knowing that he and I can swap brain-challenging stories together. We can shake our heads together in quiet acknowledgement, because now we can really relate. Maybe it's one of the best birthday presents he's ever received from me. Who knows?