Can. Not. Sit. Still.

The man cannot sit still. Seriously. 

My sister thinks he might have a disorder. Not sure there's a name for moving furniture incessantly and unnecessarily from one side of the room to the other but there might just be. He's moved the basement furniture at least 50 times. Seriously. Maybe there's a bit of OCD coupled with frustration that he's not as mobile as he says he wants to be, or as organized as he says he's going to be. Whatever the case the ruckus coming from the dining room for the past three days has been dad moving the piano and the desk back and forth, and back and forth. I will remind you that he is 94 years old and that our home's wooden floors are even older. Alas he measured all the furniture, spent time sketching out his 'new look' - asked our thoughts - "We've tried the room other ways, including this way, but the way it is now, the way mom had it, looks best," I reminded him. He countered that he'd sketched it out and he was, "Doing it!" (left index finger raised in defiance). He then pushed and grunted and reorganized that dining room - we heard caster cushions moving across the floor and back again until midnight. I do understand the need to keep moving, I'm exactly the same. I don't move furniture, but I do love to organize and have multiple side projects going at once. I have been meditating though - pretty much at Frank's insistence to quiet my mind - it is so hard - so hard to sit still - so hard to see the benefit of the time concentrating on my breath when I could be doing so many other things. I do know the benefits though, so I am trying. I mentioned meditating to dad, that it's really helpful and he said, as I suspected, that he's, "too busy." He's now done with the dining room (and very proud of himself) and already wondering if the couch in the living room would look better on the other wall...