Since I’ve been living with Mom for the past couple of weeks helping to take care of her as she recovers from surgery, I’ve been spending a lot of time sitting in “Dad’s chair.” It’s nothing special. It’s an old burgundy-covered recliner that’s a little wobbly so sometimes it makes my vertigo kick in.
But it was Dad’s favorite chair in the house. He sat in it for countless hours, watching classic movies on TV, reading the newspaper or a library book, and enjoying a pint of beer in the evenings.
So even if the chair is not the most comfortable it reminds me of Dad being comfortable and in his element, before Alzheimer’s robbed him of those simple pleasures.