"Move the mouse to the left," I instructed my visually impaired father. From a thousand miles away, I watched his curser move to the right on his computer screen. "It's moving to the right now," I noted. "Try the opposite direction."
If you had been a fly on my wall yesterday, you would have understood why my father referred to my "infinite patience." Forty-five minutes later, my father had started an email and was ready to compose a message. He was also ready for a break. So was I.
It was tedious but it was also very sweet. Sometimes taking time to really be with people is like that. Working with my father on his computer is good practice for me.