Hot Sunday

Summer is finally here. We cracked the 90 degree mark yesterday. Plus got to watch some rapidly developing thunderstorms, too. The flat bean and cornfields of the Frankenmuth area offer some pretty good views of mushrooming thunderheads. Plus all the TV/radio stations were full of tornado and severe weather warnings *shivers with excitement*.

The plan was to visit and bring lunch to the grandparents in Frankenmuth (a sort of birthday celebration for Grandma Z's 90th, which occurred on Friday), and pick up the pop-up camper from where it had been stored all winter in a friend's barn north of that town. So that meant we had to pack up everything we needed by 8am and leave the house for church, and continue north.

We made it to church on time (a miracle!) and made it to the nursing home in Frankenmuth to see Grandma Kueffner by around 1045.

For some reason, she told us she had gotten ready that morning in such a hurry (?) that she never had time to put her hearing aid in or her watch on. Okay, these were easy enough things to fix. But then she was agitated the whole time we were there, couldn't recognize any people or things in the photos we had brought to show her, and insisted she was late for lunch, and told Tim to 'step on it' while he was pushing her wheelchair. We told her she had plenty of time, that they wouldn't start lunch without her, it was only 10 minutes to 11, etc.. Only the sight of the empty dining room convinced her she had time to visit with us. All right, so then we toured the courtyard garden. We were out there for maybe 10 minutes (it was rather hot and bright). We left her at her precise place at her table in the dining room, where she seemed to be happiest. She usually isn't that peevish with us, but hey, when you're 92 I guess you're entitled.

Upon arriving at Zuckers' house, we passed cousin Jeremiah on his way out the door to join his friends waiting for him in a car (he doesn't own a car or a license to drive) for his usual Sunday spent in Bay City. He told us to keep an eye on Grandma, she was sick. The urge to throw something at the departing car was quite strong. The urge was even stronger when we could hear the upstairs floor vibrating with the sound of his own air conditioning unit going full bore in his closed room, while the rest of the house was turning into an oven. The AC window units that give comfort to the people who actually own the house were still stored in the attic.

For the next 3 hours, Tim and I: washed dishes, served lunch (grandma couldn't eat), replaced glass windows with air-circulation friendly screens, washed some more dishes, swept floors, cleaned up sickness, deciphered illegibly written notes, repeated nearly everything we said at least once, installed 2 AC units in the windows, left enough food in the fridge for dinner later, and pushed the fluids on both of grandparents, to the point of running to the store and buying some Pedialyte for grandma. A 90 year-old with a stomach flu plus a 92 degree day seemed to be a recipe for quick dehydration. The Pedialyte was Tim's idea, and I thought it was a damn good one. It's for toddlers with the flu, to prevent them from getting dehydrated and their electrolytes getting out of whack. Well hell, they say we start out life as infants and gradually revert back that way at the end of life, so perhaps it was appropriate in several ways.

At the end of it all, I had that despairing feeling that we still hadn't done nearly enough. And that we were imposing ourselves on them. They both would have been more than happy taking naps, and I even told Grandma that our feelings wouldn't be hurt in the least if she took a nap. I think she was just too sick and tired to protest too much. But as always, we wonder if bills are being paid on time, medications are being taken correctly, etc. etc. Grandpa insists they can manage, but there are times I beg to differ.

To Jeremiah's credit, he was at least home by 6pm and took the time to call us to ask us about the Pedialyte in the fridge. Neither grandparent had any idea where it had come from *sigh*. Well, you try to explain what the stuff is to someone who can barely hear, is groaning with stomach pain, and who is half asleep. I felt it more simple to pour a glass of it and hand it to grandma, saying drink this, it will help you feel better.

By the time we left, I had a monstrous craving for a beer. We stopped for one at Black Forest Brewery at the south end of Frankenmuth. Nothing spectacular on tap there, but did the pint of porter go down ever so nicely. Tim had a more seasonally appropriate hefeweizen.

We had more beer at home. It made us feel better.