Everything

Everything is hard right now.

Picking glass shards out of the carpet where the fireman broke into the house.

Seeing my dad for the first time ....his mouth drawn sharply down to the side... his right arm limp...his blue blue eyes recessed and tired.

I thought my heart would shatter when I went to his bedside in the ICU for the first time ...he grabbed my hand with his good hand and tugged and tugged at it....till he brought it to his lips and kissed me.

I was sure I would die right then and there from the pain of it all.

Telling a stranger not to resuscitate your father is hard....this clean new young doctor stands there with his clipboard and his check list and I tell him what my father told me only three weeks ago ....don't do this don't do that....okay do this but not that.

My mother is hard. Cursing us when she was admitted to the hospital ....shouting to the people in the corridors that her daughter and son-in-law are here to steal her house and take her money.

Visiting mom in respite care in a "memory unit" is even harder....she sits upright in a chair with her jaunty white angora tam on her freshly combed gray hair ....clutching her black purse and tote bag filled with her belongings...waiting for a taxi which has not been called.

It's hard to be the last minute train wreck team....the people who talk to people and everyone arrives at the same horrible conclusion....mom and dad (if he lives) need to be transferred to care facilities near me....the house packed up and sold.

It's hard to touch their things....I can't do it yet....I can't touch their belongings and make decisions....how do I know if the cheap plastic angel has thousands of memories attached to it whereas the expensive Austrian crystal flowers are meaningless?

Finding things is hard too....the letter which says their secondary insurance for health care is terminated because the premiums weren't paid.....dad's beautiful watch in a brown paper sack hidden among some old Christmas cards in a shoe box.

And it's hard to be home...my home....less than 8 hours till morning....when I will put a few things in the car....including my dog Ozzie....and go up there to live for a couple weeks? a couple months?



The only thing which has been easy......is sitting with dad.

He squeezes my hand when he's awake....hard ...soft...like Morse code....and I squeeze back .....hard soft to match....he looks at me....I smile and nod....he can't speak....I don't say much....we just sit and hold hands in a very quiet hospital room....and for those moments.....

I am deeply deeply grateful.
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