Asides

According to Alf, it was my idea. Possibly it was. I know at 78 years old, I wanted him to work less labour intensively, have more time to pursue his interests and to have a broad social life more aligned with his unstoppable interest in everyone and everything. In any event, it has happened. Alf, my father is now living with me, my husband and two of my step-daughters and life as we know it, will never be the same.

I haven’t decided yet whether Alf will be given the courtesy of previewing this before publication, but if he does, I will bet my beloved sea glass collection that he will say of the third sentence above, that I can put a full stop after the word broad. Yup, there are people who still use that word.

At this early stage, if I had to predict what Alf would bring to our home, it would be interest, amazement, colour, noise (snoring for a start), anecdotes, generosity, casualness, gruffness, rudeness, energy, impatience (mine and his), countless questions and handiness but above all, entertainment. As laid back as he is though, he can bring out an anxiety in me that I don’t normally suffer. This usually comes out when we are together in the company of others. It could be my friends or acquaintances or it could be total strangers. I worry about his loose-cannonism, his loudness, his political incorrectness and his propensity to show off. I worry that he will have a few drinks thereby increasing the likelihood of one or all of the above. Most of the time my worries come to nothing and I admonish myself for trying to control this side of him. It is usually my bad. My fear is not always unfounded though. I’m not taking all the blame.

This seems an opportune time to introduce the Alf Anxiety Altimeter to which I will apply the mnemonic AAA and use as a method of scoring the level of my anxiety on a scale of 1 to 10 in any given scenario.

Since his second marriage broke down shortly after retirement several years ago, Alf has been helping some friends on their farm. Above all else, he has to be busy and I suspect this is true to an even greater degree when he is hurting. Since then, he has made several month long trips to the island where we live, to make sure there is enough to do to keep him occupied. We knew that he just needed to make the move and everything else would then fall into place. No matter what threshold Alf crosses, stuff seems to happen. This is a constant source of entertainment in our house.

On one of his trial visits, Alf got to thinking that a fishing boat was the way forward. It seemed a bit of a leap to us given he would first need two new knees and a new hip, but nevertheless, he took himself off to auction to have a look and bid on some items for the garden. We came home that evening to a whistling Alf busy setting the table for dinner and the smell of one his stews (formerly called Daddy specials), coming from the kitchen. As the story of his day unfolds, we begin to understand that he didn’t bid on anything at the auction but he did have lunch with a lady who he didn’t want to outbid for the garden items.

It was the end of April this year when Alf finally moved in. Not one for material possessions, he arrived with two suitcases full of his clothing, a few documents, his Kindle and his computer. The computer causes no end of amusement as he can’t help but hit two or three buttons at once with his farming fingers. In frustration he takes to dictating to his computer which then spells out every stutter followed by every curse uttered because of those captured stutters. He speaks to his computer like some of us speak to foreigners, very loudly in the hope of being better understood.

There is an immediate challenge to try to keep up with all the questions around registering him as a resident, bank accounts, cars, insurance and boats. We are horrified to learn that after 61 years of driving (66 if you count tractors, apparently), Alf has to take a local driving test before he is able to drive on the island. This lack of independence makes him regret his move already. He mutters and complains a lot but immediately books his theory test in 5 days time. He spends half his time studying and half his time researching a way around it. He finds no way around it and manages 90% on his test. Encouraged by his success, he immediately books 3 driving lessons followed by his practical test 5 days later. He is an exceptionally good driver but his outstanding driving record doesn’t mean that a few bad habits haven’t been adopted over the years. His driving instructor hits him in the arm when these come to the fore. She is the perfect instructor for him. We all go outside to take photos of him driving off in her car with the big L on top on the morning of his test. We all think it’s hilarious. He does too, but he makes a rude gesture with his finger anyway. Not very grandfatherly, I comment. He passes and later the same day leaves for Poland for a knee replacement. It strikes me that these two events probably don’t go hand in hand very often.

Dad’s moving in coincided with a visit from my mother. This doesn’t cause too much concern as they remained friends after their divorce which was the best part of 40 years ago. I have found it charming over the years that they have telephoned each other after one of them pays me a visit, to let the other know how I am getting on. I wish my ex-husband and I had managed this for our daughter. I am thrilled that my mum is here for US Mother’s Day. We take her for lunch and she thinks it is only right that Alf is there too as he caused her to be a Mum. It was nice. There was a lapse in all this loveliness though when on book club evening I come home to hear that my parents were not getting along. We all knew consciously that politics were to be avoided but for some reason Alf ventured into this arena. Although myself and my husband are more politically aligned with my father, we all agree that he was rude. Before she takes herself off to bed, Mum gives him a 4 word instruction which leaves him in no doubt as to what he can go and do to himself with no help from anyone else. I cancel my circuit class in the morning to mediate but when I go downstairs to breakfast, they are chatting amiably.

One of my closest friends is seeing another friend and colleague of mine. We are invited to his birthday barbecue at her house together with my father. I love the thought of this party and the fact that it includes all of us but it comes with a rating of 4.5 on the AAA scale in the time leading up to the party, followed by one or two 6.8s on the night. I receive a text after the party from my work friend saying his family thinks Alf is a legend. I laugh but there is an element of panic. He must not discover this. It will only encourage him.