Asking for Help

Hey, I like to think I'm an expert on help because I manage a help desk. But we are in the business of giving it, not receiving it.

This morning my dad was out around town, on foot, as he often is on a weekday morning, running errands. He's 83 years old, and used to work full time until about two years ago when his old beater of a car conked out after more than 200,000 miles. He worked in New Jersey (one heck of a commute, even for a young person) and couldn't afford to get a new car. So now he walks and sometimes he takes the bus when going more than a couple of miles.

My brother alerted me that he'd been trying to call for a few hours, with no answer. Dad normally isn't out for that long. Sure enough, there was a problem. He'd fallen down on the street, and strangers came to his rescue by calling the police. They checked him at the local hospital, treated him for cuts and bruises, and released him. Would you believe that he waited on the corner for the bus home because he didn't want to tell anyone that he needed a ride? My brother scolded him for that (via long distance phone call) and encouraged him to accept assistance from me with grocery shopping and errands that are some distance away.

Of course I followed up with a phone call. Dad basically pooh poohed me, although he did express his appreciation. I felt a bit frustrated, but thinking about it now, I wonder what I will be like when I am 83 and the Three Amigos want me to call them to ask for a ride to the grocery store. I might pooh pooh them unless it were something too heavy for me to carry or unless I were feeling ill. I hope I remember today's events and thoughts some thirty five plus years into the future. If not, remind me please...