Dad Rehab

He had to come back from near catastrophe, and recovering from a stroke was only part of it.

WE ARE ON A MISSION. My sister and I scurry like church ladies setting out an Easter buffet. We remembered to get plastic knives and forks, the napkins. Lots of napkins. He will need them. We arrange the takeout containers of moussaka, the gyro, the large Greek salad, the three pieces of baklava.

We rub our palms over the synthetic fabric of the tablecloth, smoothing the wrinkles.

"Okay," my sister Barb says. "Go get him."

In his room at the skilled nursing facility in South Carolina, I find my dad where we left him: flat on his back on a hospital bed. "Ready?" I ask.

I get the wheelchair out of his bathroom. I lock in the foot pieces but remember to keep them swung out, so he won't trip as he gets into the chair. I fold down his metal bedrail. I swing his legs and hips closer to the edge of the bed. He lifts his head, and I reach around and place my palm at the center of his upper back, between the shoulder blades. I bend my knees for support, as if ready to lift a piano. My dad is not a big man: narrow shoulders, 5-11, about 165 pounds. Still, the left side of his body is about 70 percent paralyzed from the right-brain stroke, and I'm prepping to move dead weight. As I reach around his back, our faces are abnormally close. Our eyes meet, and we burst into laughter, me hunched over, knees bent, with my rear in the air, he trying to lean on his one good elbow. "No laughing," I say.

"You started it," he says.

"Ready?" I ask. "On three. One, two . . ."

And up he goes. He's standing. We pivot. We dance. His hands are on my shoulders. Mine are on his hips. The goal is to make the left leg and foot move, to inch around until he feels the wheelchair seat at the back of his legs. Left foot. Right foot. Left foot. We say these words out loud together. He starts to bend his knees, as if to sit. "Dad, don't bend your knees until you feel the chair, or you'll land on the floor."

No answer.

"Dad, do you feel the chair?"

"Yes."

"Then bend."