Feelin' Better Already

So I'm in a mood. Yeah, yeah, you've heard that before.

Actually, I'm not a moody person. I have an attitude, that's true. But for the most part, I take every day for what it is... a once in a lifetime experience. There are days though, for no particular reason, that just get me... well, a little pissy.

Sometimes, like today, there are no real reasons other than I want to be somewhere else, doing something else, other than sitting here in my living room. It's not real unhappiness, it's more like today wasn't all it could be, and I have not made much of it. And that bothers me.

I have seen, like everyone else, too many friends and family members lost or taken ill, and having their lives forever changed or taken from them. This week on FB alone, there have been friends thinking about their moms, school friends, brothers and sisters, who are gone. Just tonight one asked for prayers for a forever friend. Here's my point.

We don't know what tomorrow brings, all we know is tomorrow means we have one less day on this earth. Don't waste it. Look around you, if this life is not what you want it to be, start to change it. Things won't happen overnight, but you have to envision it, then do it. Baby steps if you need to, boldly if you dare.

Not much I can imagine as more true than the sentence "The only regrets I have are the things I didn't do."

Tomorrow is promised to no one. Take a chance on today.

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Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain

"My father's eyes

When I looked in my father's eyes"

The last time I looked into my father's eyes was a year and a day ago. It was one brief glimpse of bright blue as he looked at us for the last time. Did he see us? I like to believe he did. It was the most movement we had seen in those eyes for several days, and he scanned the four of us, as if taking one last look. His eyes seemed bluer than they had for some time, most likely because the color of his skin had become almost ghost like.

I was hoping to sleep till at least four this morning, No such luck. It was three-fifteen when my brain reminded me that I have one more story to write about him.

The call came at 5:10, August 13, 2012. The nursing facility which he had called home for the last several months of his life called me, not my mother, to say he was gone. For the past few days, his chest barely moved as he breathed. Sometime during that early morn, his breathing just stopped.

Dawn was just breaking as I drove my mother to say goodbye to the man she had loved since she was sixteen. Not being in a hospital meant the facility was very quiet when we arrived, I was thankful for that. Not much was different from the last time I had seen him a few hours before, except that everything was different.

From the day he entered the hospital a few months earlier, we knew things would change, and change quickly. When you have no options, you hope for speed. While you desperately wish to go back, hold onto the good times, the lifetime of memories, the man he was... in reality all you wish is that he does not suffer.

In the end, he was luckier than most with pancreatic cancer. Discomfort yes, but agonizing pain never came to be. I could not be more thankful for that.

Just as my dad's journey is over, so are my posts about him. When I started writing about him, around his last birthday, he wasn't sick... just getting tired. It really wasn't a plan to write his story, those of you who know me are well aware I don't plan much, other than a concert schedule. But it helped to write. It's always been easier for me to write words rather than speak them.

So I'll say goodbye to him one more time. Looking at the clock, it's almost 5:10, and the house is at peace.

Just like my dad.

Miss you Pops.


For anyone who wants to read the rest of the story, The Journey Home, has the links to all of them.

A Life Lesson on a Beautiful Day

Right now I'm supposed to be writing...just not a blog.

I'll get around to what I need to do a little later. But I just had a few thoughts about the day, so here I go.

Yesterday, as we drove up to the weekend house the weather danced between pouring rain and brightening skies. Through it all, we could see the colors of the season bursting out of the gray sky. By next weekend, many of the leaves will have dropped, leaving barren spots where the crimson red and marigold yellow used to be.

Across the river into Pennsylvania, the colors were still beautiful...until we made the turn up the last small hill before the house. In mileage, it's only 2/10 of a mile, but the elevation is just enough to create a different eco system. In spring when the snow throughout the community has melted, we will still have piles scattered around, refusing to fade away. Summer comes a little later and fall lasts a few short weeks. Today, only a few trees have any color left, mostly they have turned brown or are bare.

This morning as I caught up on posts from some of the other writers I follow, there was one which made me rethink my day. Now I spend most of the week working from home and most of my time in front of a computer. Weekends are usually spent up here in the mountains and I treasure every minute of it. But today, the plan was to spend most of the day again, in front of the computer. Until I read the post Curating a Bucket List on the Fly by Jonah Gibson.  Jonah has recently found out he has cancer, and unfortunately it is not his first trip down that road. With each series of tests, his diagnosis has become more ominous. His post reflected on his imaginary Bucket List and how useless and absurd it was. There is the distinct possibility there will be no time for everything he once thought had value. A life lesson to be sure.

Indeed, tomorrow is promised to no one, and we should all take each day for the gift that is offered. Today life offered me a beautiful day and the chance to breathe in fresh air as I walked around the lake. I greedily accepted the offering, and I am both mentally and physically recharged. There is a certain amount of discipline to have a writer's life. But there is also only a certain amount of life we have to live.

Thank you Jonah for reminding me of that.

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My Dad's Journey: A New Home

The next step of my dad's journey is complete. He has been moved from the hospital to a rehab center/nursing home. He now resides in the sub-acute section of the facility. It's a nice enough place, and after the second day, we are more than satisfied with the care he is receiving.

The transfer went smooth. We were told what time he would leave the hospital, so my mother and I went to the rehab center to meet him there. After the endless paperwork and questions we were not nearly prepared for, we sat in his room for him to arrive.  When he did a few minutes later, he was nervous, scared and uncomfortable. The first few hours we were there, his mood did not change. We hoped, as we promised him tomorrow would be better...that it was going to be true.

Lucky for all of us...it was. He seemed to like his nurse, and though he said he was not hungry...he asked me when they were bringing dinner.  For the first time since he was hospitalized, I watched as he fed himself. Very slowly and awkwardly...but he did it.

My mother had been there earlier in the day, followed by my brother & sister-in-law. Then the light of his life, his granddaughter and her husband arrived from out of town. To remind him of my parents'  several visits to Hawaii, they brought him a little hula dancer...a plastic toy that shakes her hips.

At first I was unsure of who brought him the toy. When he clarified that it was indeed my beautiful niece, I asked, "oh MC was here?"  "Yes," he said as the most beautiful smile came across his face. He was there in the moment, his mind clear and his vocal skills as good as they had been in months.

As an added treat, we were able to secure a little ice cream...one of his favorite things. He was tired, so I fed it to him and watched him savor each mouthful.

As we left, I felt better about not seeing him for the weekend. We leave him in the hands of the nursing staff and the rest of my family until Monday evening.

When the illness of a family member occurs so quickly, there are so many decisions to be made..and they need to be made quickly. Hopefully we have made the right ones. Comfort, security and good care are really all you hope for.

And a little ice cream at the end of the day.
Love you Pops.
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Life: As The Days Grow Shorter

So, the joy of picking up the new car was quickly replaced with the worry and stress of dealing with the illness of a loved one.

I've mentioned my dad in many of my posts. He turned 87 in February and up until a few weeks before that birthday, he was still driving. In the 10 weeks since, the deterioration of his health has been dramatic. In the past week, startling.

Last Saturday, he and my mother (now the driver) went to Walmart and two wine stores. He was able to walk...slowly, and choose the wine. One week later, he is in a hospital bed, unable to walk or feed himself and barely able to talk. While his motor and verbal skills had been declining, in a three-day period he became an invalid.

There are other health issues which need to be determined, but at this point, the testing is limited to what his body can tolerate...and that ain't much. His mind, is at times intact; at others...a fragment of what it once was. He is scared. You can see it in his beautiful blue eyes. The fact that his hearing is almost gone, only makes it worse for him.

We are losing him. At this point, I hope it is sooner rather than later. I can see no magic pill that will bring back the man of even a week ago. I cannot see him pulling through a surgery which I'm fairly certain would be necessary. I cannot, with the way he is now, even see him getting out of that bed. I can only pray, as a daughter who loves him with every fiber of her being, that this part of his journey will not be too difficult.

Wednesday night we picked up the new car. Thursday morning, I drove my dad to the ER. Though I hope he will have the chance to ride in it again, right now it's not looking too good.

Love you Pops.

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Taking Time To Give Thanks

During the course of a lifetime, there are so many things we take for granted. Family, health and time...being the top three. Last night I was able to remind myself that none of the three is a given.

Spent the evening with some old friends who had moved quite a distance away some years ago...mainly I believe for a better climate for one of them.  As it turns out, that was a great decision. Physically, she is in so much better condition than the last time I saw her, it is astounding. Better lifestyle and better living through pharmacology.

On the other hand, her husband developed a life-threatening and life-changing illness. The road has been long and difficult, but hopefully the worst is behind him. In any case, this previously imposing figure is now a shadow of what he was. But he is the same wonderful man with a dry sense of humor, and a man who always brings a smile to my face.

As we sat around my brother's dining room table eating Chinese takeout, the talk never really addressed the illness that is the 800 lb. gorilla in the room. We didn't need to. We all know what he had gone through, what lies ahead and what we don't know might lie ahead.

No, last night was just a chance to see the faces that, just like ours, have changed so much over the years. A time to drink a glass a wine and to share a meal. A simple night, with simple conversation. A time to catch up and enjoy the trash talk and humor which defines our "family."

A time to remember that family, health and time are not to be taken for granted. They are to be taken as gifts meant to be appreciated daily.

This is my way of giving thanks.

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