Operator

2005

Installing the phone in my father's apartment has now given him a new sense of purpose. He has designated himself as the "operator" for the house. Whenever the phone rings, he answers. As soon as he hangs up the phone he can not remember who he just spoke to or who the call was for. The obvious problem is that we never know who is trying to contact us. We just moved to the south, the kids are in new schools and I am always concerned that there may be an illness or some other urgent issue. Our oldest son is a senior and driving himself to and from school, and this brings my anxiety to an even higher level.

I try several tactics to combat the problem. As soon as I hear the phone ring, I race to pick it up. Needless to say, he answers before I do and when I say "hello" Dad yells into the phone "I'VE GOT IT, HANG UP!" I wait a few minutes and trudge down to his apartment. There he is stationed at his desk waiting for the next call. I ask "Dad, who was on the phone?" He looks at me and smiles, "I don't know." "Do you remember who it was for, was it for me?" "Hmmmmmm I don't think so. Maybe. I don't know."

I give Dad a note pad and pen and leave it at the desk. I tell him that it would be very helpful if he would write down the message right away, so we would know who is calling and what the message is. He thinks that this will be a great help. Needless to say, this does not help at all. He lost the pen, couldn't find the note pad or forgot who was calling. I become more and more annoyed with the situation.

My youngest son attends the parochial school where we go to church. One Wednesday morning while at bible study the secretary from the school comes in and asks to see me when our meeting is finished. Once our meeting is over I go into the office and apparently there has been a mix-up with the tuition payments and somehow we are over paid on the account. She sits with me and explains where the credit has gone and I thank her for her time. When leaving she mentions that she has been trying to contact me for the last two weeks and has left messages. I apologise for the confusion, explain the situation and suggest that she call my cell number in the future. I begin to wonder if I have not gotten messages from my older son's school. It is clear that I have to rectify this problem.

That afternoon, again the phone rings, it stops, and I trudge downstairs and ask who was on the phone. "Huh. I don't know, but I know it was for you." What did the person say Dad?" He looks at the ceiling, looks at the floor and then says "They said, Quick get help, there's kids in the street!" I tell Dad that this is getting out of control, and I really need to get the messages when people call. I tell him that if he can't do that, then he will have to stop answering the phone. This makes him angry. "IT'S NOT MY FAULT! They just don't say who they are. It's not my fault!"
I head upstairs and call my neighbor Lori. I am fairly certain it was her that called. Sure enough, I was right. She had told my father "Just tell her it is Lori, her friend down the street."

I discuss the problem with my husband and we decide that we should have a separate phone number for Dad's apartment. This should solve the problem. When Dad comes up for dinner that evening I tell him that we think it is a good idea for him to have his own phone number for his apartment. He looks at me and asks "Does that mean I have to pay for it?" I tell him that he will be responsible to pay for his own phone bill. He responds, "OH well, I just won't answer the phone anymore, I don't want to have to pay extra for another phone. I have my own cell phone what the hell do I care?"