You can't go back

We spent yesterday back in the old neighbourhood, where my father-in-law still lives.

Man, has it ever changed. Waaay more big box stores. Big time development. I didn't see that many homeless and/or drug addicted people but the downtown was overrun by two cruise ships that had ported.

Father-in-law is still a strange anomoly in the fishbowl of life. Dead of summer and he's wearing jeans and a thick leather motorcycle jacket. Oooh, that jacket is something else. It is the colour(s) of everyone's lawns out here (there hasn't been a drop of rain for three months) and on the back is a painted embossed illustration of an eagle over mountains in attack formation. Sweet.

After lunch of deep-fried yuck (I chose a pasta instead), we spent the afternoon walking around downtown alone (Father-in-law's daily routine doesn't include family he hasn't seen in two years so we walked him back to his apartment to meet him for dinner after).

Anyway, we went back to the same hotel restaurant for dinner. Father-in-law still had a ketchup smear on his cheek from lunch. I was unsure if I should have told him, fearing his embarassment. Instead, i took his photo with my digital camera and showed him after. His reaction? "Sooo, how much was that camera? I like it!"

You see, I've never really got on with him. His brain isn't wired the way it was before his stroke over 20 years ago. Conversations with him are difficult and labourous. But I put on my best reporter's hat and formulate questions prior to our meeting. I stick with topics dear to his heart: his Manawaka-esque hometown in the rural prairies, his purchases, his stroke club, and cigarettes. Still, I'm lucky if he pays attention to me or if he answers with one word. Awkward as all get-go, lemme tell you. Anyway, we sit down; the kids on their best behaviour. And Husband starts reading the freakin' newspaper!!!

I couldn't wait to get out. But why? Father-in-law was in a rush too because he went 45 minutes without a smoke, dammit. So we sit around the parking lot, pretty much just watching the guy smoke. He finishes it, starts up the scooter without so much a "let's go," and launches a huge loogie for us to step over. Classy.

We go back for more tomorrow.