Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content.
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| Like The Queen Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content. |
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1 Comments:Hugs and prayers to you and BD. FB would not let me finish commenting this morning, so I wheeled over here. Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom] Monday, May 18, 2009 Playing Catch UpThank you for your kind wishes my friends. The past few weeks have been hectic to say the least. The good news is that my dad made it through the minimum of rehab and is going back to his apartment today. The bad news is that it is only the barest minimum. We are expecting another crisis soon, but the alternative: him turning so mean the rehab center kicks him out... is worse than the next crisis. He is weak and dispirited and not really trying to get any better than he absolutely must. His is that stubborn personality wrapped in painful shyness and fueled by the rage of an inflexiblity, that will not find joy in a new path when there is no more to be found along the old one. Every spare moment I could squeeze out of an already packed schedule has been devoted to cajoling and flirting and teasing him into this minimum cooperation - the only practical thing I can do for him. My poor and burdened sister shoulders the majority of his care - the tedious visits with doctors, the financial paperwork, the long drive in to town on an almost daily basis, to consult with his caregivers or purchase his daily needs - and my mother's, remember. There are two of them who fight so wickedly they can't live together. It is her bad luck that I have the good cop role ... the role of the non-custodial parent who breezes in all made-up, in a matched outfit, with presents and a happy smile. She is the one who makes them "do their homework" and they treat her exactly as any bratty 9 year old treats the parent who makes him do what's good for him. This has all taken place in a frantic month that was full of both deliciously fun travel and anxious frustrated travel. I'm not sure if the good visits helped dilute the difficult or if the difficult diminished the joy of the fun. It's still too close to asses, and besides, it is what it is. I had the joy of Maryland and the anxiety of hospitals, the pleasure of seeing LD and the tedium of rehab. What I have NOT had is inspiration to pursue art in the form of fiber, pencil or paint. I have no visual proof that there is an inner artist, but I promise you ... she is there. And sooner or later she'll awaken and produce and create and then... she will share. Tomorrow BD goes in for some long delayed surgery. Every medical person assures me this is routine, easy to bounce back from, with wonderful results for a longer, healthier life. We are approaching it with confidence. Perhaps I am becoming hospital anxiety immune. hmmm? Ahh Monday. posted by Bess | 6:51 AM |
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