Puzzling

My siblings and I were so fortunate for our family growing up. Mom was an at-home Mom, as was common in the 1960s. Looking back, I have some sadness that Mom gave up her career in order to stay at home but we all benefitted from it. I recall the wonderful meals that she would cook and the entire family together around the dinner table.

These family meals were where I received my most meaningful education. I was largely unaware at the time, but it was here that my sense of morals and values were formed. I also learned to play with words and numbers. Dad would often pose a question or point something out for discussion. This may have been the starting point of my training for the grammar police. This was the ground work for me being a mathlete in high school. These daily Socratic seminars paid dividends in our education and lives down the road. This sense of play with the world as our classroom didn't only happen at the dinner table. Sometimes it took place in the car. I recall when I was first learning to read that we were riding on some trip in the car. I saw a sign that read, "Pass With Care". I commented to my brother why they would have to write that since everyone would be in a car. He helped me to understand silent E. Everyone in my family can remember times of Dad with his playful mind. For example, we'd be somewhere like the YMCA for family swim and Dad would pose a question like, "Do you think it is possible to get home only by making right turns?" After a quick discussion, he would set out to prove it, much to the dismay of Mom who just wanted to get home.

In 1987, Will Shortz became one of the hosts of National Public Radio's Sunday Puzzle. Listening to this show quickly became a family ritual. At 7:40 a.m. CST, our family would tune in to play along and to hear the weekly challenge. As our family was scattered around the state and country, we continued to listen in. Once in a while one of us misses the challenge but quite often, the question prompts an email exchange. We may ask one another for clarification or make it known that we've solved it. There is an unwritten rule to avoid any hints, much like refraining from spoiling the ending of a book or movie. Of course, some slight boasting is allowed if you solve the puzzle quickly or if you are the only one to come up with the answer. If it is a true stumper, we may share ideas if the week is almost up. One of my sisters has said that she likes what she calls a Tuesday puzzle, one that doesn't come to you right away but instead makes you think until about Tuesday to solve it. In true midwestern fashion, rarely do any of us send in our answer. Sure, we'd get the coveted lapel pin but our quiet family victories usually suffice.

I don't know at what point they started having the Wisconsin Public Radio noon quiz question but Dad latched onto that one as well. There is an hour long program of classical music from noon to 1 p.m. every weekday. At 12:30 the host reads a quiz question and the answer is giving at 1. People can call or email their answers. The winner receives a book or CD in the mail. This was another time when I knew where Dad was as he would religiously listen and call in with the answer. He won a few times and seemed to connect with the hosts over the years from very short phone conversations spread over years. Dad connected us at the dinner table growing up through word and math puzzles. While the cruelty of dementia has prevented him from playing and taking part, his passion for lifelong learning is instilled in my entire family. For my siblings and I, Sunday mornings at 7:40 may result in a knowing look from a spouse or a quiet "shush" or turning up of the volume. Usually with paper and pencil in hand, we play along, trying to come up with the on air answers before the contestant. When the question is done, each of us is jotting things down, crafting an answer. I enjoy holiday time or family visits where we are all gathered around the same radio. This past week, my sister arranged a visit with Dad and I took off from work to go. I hadn't seen Dad since his 85th birthday on June 11th, and that was through a window, cracked open just a bit. Now, four months later, Dad has been moved to an area of greater care. With masks on, we were able to have a face-to-face conversation. We were able to hold Dad's hand and tell him we loved him. Dad's brother was able to connect with us via Facetime.

I don't talk about my writing process very much. I have long struggled with forced creativity. It is rare for me to sit down to write something on purpose. Usually, I have ideas come together and I have to empty my head. As my sleeping patterns have changed over the last seven years, I have settled into an odd routine. I sleep for about four to five hours, wake up around 1 or 2 a.m. for a few hours and then catch another hour or so later on before I have to get up for work. I haven't used an alarm in decades. When I awoke around midnight many of these ideas were floating around in my head. It dawned on me that I left on my short trip to see Dad at 7:38 on Sunday morning, just as the quiz question was coming on. I usually ride with the radio off these days so once I heard the question, I took some time to think about it in silence. Our visit with Dad was for 10 a.m. on Monday. After the visit, I headed for home. Being the emotional creature I am, I had bouts of sadness as I drove home, having to wipe away tears. About 12:15, I remembered the quiz question on WPR

and I tuned into the show before 12:30. Dad helped us to appreciate classical music and of course that brought sadness as memories swirled in my mind. The answer for the question that day came to me right away. I pulled over and emailed in my response using my phone. Impulsively, I put down "John Larsen" instead of my own name. As I pulled into my driveway, I heard them announce the winner, John Larsen of Manitowoc. It felt good to hear Dad's name on the radio one more time. Not until the wee hours of this morning did I realize that the two different puzzles served as bookends to my trip to see Dad.

Puzzling. I think I will add that on my resume as one of my hobbies. It brings me joy and it occupies my time. However, one thing that I find puzzling is how a man as brilliant as our father can have his brain slowly wither to where he is now. This is one puzzle I wish someone would help solve.