birf

round and round
with love we'll find a way
just give it time

Today is my momma's birthday.
72.

72 and her husband of 49 years and 10 months is dying.

We went to ride the big ferris wheel downtown.
She loves to ride rides.
Ha.
I think she loves to ride rides.
Maybe she just loves the kick that the kids get out of her riding the rides.

I don't know.

It is strange that we left the nursing home and drove downtown crying.
Then we got to the birfday destination and had fun.
(Although she did seem preoccupied.)
And then we got in the car and drove home and we were crying again.

She isn't clear on how long my dad has.
Hospice is coming every day and he is getting the morphine every 2 hours.

God, I hope this doesn't go on for long.

I love being here.
It is nice to be away from home.
And - I AM SO READY TO GO HOME!!!!

The hospice chaplain came to visit him yesterday.
I tried to talk to her tonite about pictures for a photo slide show, who is out of town and needs to be called, what she wants in the eulogy - but she is pretty resistant.
I told her we could go to the funeral home this week to talk about what will happen once the hospice folks contact them that he has passed, she wants to go alone.

I think I might need some of that morphine soon.

I had a brief yet painful conversation with the Manvel girls while sitting in a public restaurant the other night.
I was sincerely appreciative of the knowing glances that I received from across the table.
I think Jeff is glad that someone out there remembers what I remember and can honor the part of me that wants to run and hide.
There are very few that can truly understand the pain and conflicting roller coaster of emotions that come with this loss.

I guess I am still in shock that I am old enough to be going through this.
I am secretly laughing at myself because of my academy award winning performance that makes it seem like I am mature enough to handle this like an adult.
Because I am not.
Mature enough that is.

Really, all I wanna do is scream.
SCREAM.

But I guess that wouldn't do any good.

I feel like I head to the nursing home with things to say, questions to ask, thoughts to share.
And then I get there and can't open my mouth.
The clock is ticking.
I am running out of time.

I can tell that he is tired.
I can see in his eyes that he is sorry.
The words from his mouth are kind and sincere.

So now is my time to hold his hand.
And truly feel the forgiveness.

Man.

And all of this on my momma's birthday.
damn.

P.S.  yes, you get major brownie points if you sang that photo caption.