Tears Dry on Their Own

He had fur just like a dandelion. 

Oh my blog! My sweet, cathartic, ridiculous blog.

I feel the need to get thoughts out, yet am hesitant to do so. Do you ever wonder if the need to keep things "close to the vest" is more than simple self-protection, but a deeper denial than we could imagine?

I've been working on self-awareness. At times I even doubt if I fully understand what that could mean. I do feel that I self-catastrophize and blame myself for things that are not my fault. I have a hard time not believing I'm to blame for all things which, perversely, is rather boastful of me. Who the hell am I to believe that I am the arbiter of all that is bad for the cryin' out loud? Hmm?   :)

Do I know why? I don't. I work on myself. I'm still in the oven baking apparently. That's okay. At least I'm changing. Ha!

My dad had a smallish stroke a week ago. I say smallish only because he has minimal residual damage. Some speech impairment and a bit of weakness on his right side. I know it does not seem smallish to him. The instant loss of independence is hard on him and I also know while the brain is healing from such a bad thing he is reeling emotionally.

My dad lives in Idaho with his 2nd wife. We, his family, live in Minnesota. He and Momma Bee had been at the Mayo Clinic for Bee's follow-up surgery for an issue she was having last summer and fall. They had driven from their Idaho home to Rochester and Bee's daughter had flown here to be with her momma during the surgery.

It went well, she was recuperating at her brother's house, Barnabee (a moniker my sweet Pup dealt to them - Barney and Bee) had decided to head for home. The early morning before they were set to leave my dad had his stroke.

Now starts the rollercoaster.

It's emotional to see my dad going through this thing.

He remarried and moved to Idaho with his wife back in 2005 a few months after my momma died.

This was a hard thing for us. For me. My mom was gone after a long illness, then my dad uprooted and moved a long distance away. We were supportive because why should my dad be alone? He would have been miserable.

The hard thing has always been that suddenly he was gone. He has new step-children he loves, a new life. I am happy for him, yet, selfishly, sad for me that he isn't here in Minnesota with us.

So my dad has lived in Idaho for nearly eight years.

Pup and I went to visit them a couple of years ago and frankly it was somewhere I'm not in a fast hurry to get back to.

They live a nice, quiet life in Bee's house with one of her sons right next door which is lovely and perfect. I'm more a city girl (obviously) and sitting in the quiet life for several days watching The History Channel was enough for me.

You all know I'm teasing here. It was great to see Barnabee and a few quiet days spent to visit with my dad was okay by me.

They live near a town that is bigger and I do think it could be fun to check that out when I get back there.

But, let's get back to the now of it as I am distracting myself. It's a gift peeps!

When my dad was released from the hospital I said they needed to come home with us until we figured out what was what.

Three visits to the emergency room, one by ambulance ride, and six days later, we now see that our little house with its one bathroom and very small den/guestroom is woefully inadequate for the care and feeding of two elderly patients.

I love my dad.

I haven’t spent much time with him in the past nine years mostly because of where they live. He has gotten older. I have gotten older. Hook this onto the fact that I am not his favorite child and hook this onto the fact that he is going through way more than I can realize in the aftermath of a stroke and trying to heal along with his wife who is recovering from a fairly major surgery.

Whew

I am bone tired. They have been with us for these six days and there is little time in the day that I’m not seeing to their needs. And that is good. I’m surprised, but not of a complaining mind.

What am I saying?

I’m nervous today. Nervous because my brother who doesn’t speak to me is coming with my sister to see Dad.

I said to Pup, “I can make myself scarce so they aren’t uncomfortable.”

“Don’t you dare,” said my sweet husband. “Don’t you dare – this is your house. They can fuck themselves.”

He loves me and I think he is going on a protective binge which makes me want to squeeze him, the sweet thing. He has watched me cry and knows that all of this is hard. I am trying to keep myself calm. I will be calm.

I need to discover and annihilate what it is that keeps me scared about this stupid situation. What am I scared of? I think I’m scared of me.

Keep the peace hooches. I am hiding in my head today until I have to reveal. Wish me luck!