It ‘s only been two weeks. But it feels like it’s been two months. Two weeks since the doctor said Dad had 10 days left to live. Two trips to Springfield to see him, be with him and now help care for him.
After getting Dad back home, I spent a week with him, expecting a gradual decline and preparing myself for the end. I flew home for the weekend, worked feverishly to get a bunch of stuff done and came back on Monday. Upon my return, Dad mentioned he couldn’t remember the last time he had seen me! Dad seemed to have improved a little. He can stand up on his own; he just can’t go anywhere. For the most part, we only need one person home to take care of him. Dad eats well — especially dessert — but wears out quickly and sleeps a lot. The overnight CNAs are wonderful and a blessing so we can get some rest.
So where do we go from here? I have no idea. I can come up and help during the week. Helping mostly involves sitting around making sure Dad doesn’t try to get up by himself. That and watching baseball and eating dessert. I’ve been able to get work done from here, but there are a number of things I need to get home for in the next few weeks. Each week will just have to be different.
I just want something to happen. Good or bad. I know, I know, God said, “Be still and know that I am God.” I get it. I just want something to happen.
I’m flying back home tomorrow night with my daughter Katie who also lives in the DC area. We’ll be joined by my sister-in-law Sarah and her daughter Eden for a fun and busy Mother’s Day weekend. Later on next week, I’ll be back to hang out some more with Dad, and add another chapter to this experience.