dad, punch-drunk but still standing

Here's an understatement...Dad is a bit overwhelmed these days. The combination of; mom's illness, the flood (flashback 1988), the new floor project, dealing with his mother dearest, and hey, to be fair, the guy just turned 75 -- has him staggering a bit in the ring and throwing punches as if he was co-starring in Rocky 20, The Senescent Round.

Sunday night he asked me if we should forgo doing the outside cement pour to seal the garage wall. He was clearly agitated. I made the mistake of thinking he was in his right mind and started to get my hackles up until I realized that he's plumb loco right now. I explained again why it made sense to take care of the outside while we were already inconvenienced because of the inside floor and left it at that.

Dad on overload leads to conversations like the one I woke up to today. Mom's voice getting progressively louder and more vehement as she repeated the same thing (with words in different order) into the phone--"The laundry room has a separate door."

I think she was trying to get him to rearrange items in there so we could get to the microwave over the next couple of days, but simple concepts become Rubiks during an emotional deluge. Fortunately, he's a resilient guy and usually bounces right back.

He will never throw in the towel, but I sincerely hope he's capable of learning how to deal more productively with stress or we may have to get the 2for1 special at tutu's new residence.