word after word after word
January 2009
Saturday, January 3, 2009
A year can sure hold a lot of ups and downs.
The good in 2008 was in my children all getting on their feet, establishing independent lives, doing well. You can't exagerrate how much this enables me to do the same. Also, in 2008 (because?) I found new partner to share my life and home with. This has me happy and hopeful for 2009 and on.
The bad in 2008 was in my father's illness, and the end of the year, I suppose appropriately in the cold and the snow, saw him in decline. Murphy's law would also bring snow to complicate his home care. Who plans these things? So 2009 has started off with a lot of worry and extra care. And how do you care for someone who wants to be alone, yet literally can't get himself off the floor if he slips there. At what point do you start to stop listening to what your father allows, and just do for him? How do you balance someone's discomfort, when physical discomfort is matched, perhaps exceeded, by psychological distress at having to deal with anyone new? (We're talking in the realm of personality disorder here; I don't exagerrate.) And how can I possibly talk about this sort of thing in such a public space?
Ah well, I've called in the professionals for Monday. Perhaps it's possible to make the old guy comfortable. You never know. And I'll be thinking about the life of this blog, one that I don't visit as often as I once did, do I?
It's been quite the winter, hasn't it? This picture is of the wooden boats outside the Vancouver Maritime Museum. Normally you can see Stanley Park and Bowen Island in the background.
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July 1939, Lake of the Woods. He always liked fishing. |
Thursday, January 22, 2009
11 pm
Today is my father's 88th birthday. I didn't think he was going to make it this far, but there you go, he did. Eights are supposed to be lucky numbers, so I guess 88 is an especially lucky number. I hope I make it to that date. I hope I still want to when I get there.
Dad was underwhelmed by the news it was his birthday. I think he rolled his eyes around. Not sure, because he doesn't open them much anymore; mostly he sleeps. My sister brought him a beer, which is a big deal in our heads, as we got him to stop drinking about six years ago and knew he missed his beer very much. Recently the doctor had suggested sherry as a way to encourage his appetite. That was the first smile I'd seen on his face in awhile, and for several days he was certain to ask for a shot. But he's lost interest, and today he didn't recognize the taste of beer, didn't want more. I think the lesson here is don't put things off too long. Because it can be too late. Or something like that. It was just a beer and he did used to like it too well.
He's very tiny now, lost a lot of weight. He was never a tall man (that's an understatement, yuk, yuk) but this picture of him as an 18 year-old is astounding as he grew more and more rotund as he aged, until last year. But not eating because you have cancer is one way to drop a lot of weight.
I will be an orphan; it's 20+ years since my mother died, and indeed, my father will soon die too. My parents weren't married very long, but long enough I guess, as here I am. What else can you ask for?
Here's a picture of my parents from long ago. They look like children to me, I've gotten so old myself.
July - December 2008 entries
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