Sigh
I have not written much lately – except in Santa’s Diary.
Little time or energy – and much on my mind.
My mother is going in for cancer treatments. The prognosis is not good.
My father (a stroke victim) went into an assisted living home (despite my objections that he needed more care than they could offer) because my mother can’t take care of him for now. He believes he will be able to return home in a couple of weeks and she will be able to wait on him hand and foot once again.
Doubtful.
And even if she will be able after the treatments to continue as she has since the stroke, wrong.
Anyway, after a couple of weeks, the assisted living people have told him he needs more than they can offer (gee, am I prophetic!), and now he expects me to help him find a new place.
Something I’d offered to do two months ago when school was out and I had the free time.
He wants another assisted living place.
What he needs is a full nursing home. Of course, he won’t listen to me.
Meanwhile, school has started. I’m the lead teacher and principal.
What is sleep?
There are a few other weights on my mind and soul. I won’t get into them now.
But one of the upshots of all that is going on is that the diaconate seems beyond my reach - at this time, or, realistically ( given my age and the long-term nature of some of this stuff that's piling up), ever.
Too bad I’m not a drinking man!
Little time or energy – and much on my mind.
My mother is going in for cancer treatments. The prognosis is not good.
My father (a stroke victim) went into an assisted living home (despite my objections that he needed more care than they could offer) because my mother can’t take care of him for now. He believes he will be able to return home in a couple of weeks and she will be able to wait on him hand and foot once again.
Doubtful.
And even if she will be able after the treatments to continue as she has since the stroke, wrong.
Anyway, after a couple of weeks, the assisted living people have told him he needs more than they can offer (gee, am I prophetic!), and now he expects me to help him find a new place.
Something I’d offered to do two months ago when school was out and I had the free time.
He wants another assisted living place.
What he needs is a full nursing home. Of course, he won’t listen to me.
Meanwhile, school has started. I’m the lead teacher and principal.
What is sleep?
There are a few other weights on my mind and soul. I won’t get into them now.
But one of the upshots of all that is going on is that the diaconate seems beyond my reach - at this time, or, realistically ( given my age and the long-term nature of some of this stuff that's piling up), ever.
Too bad I’m not a drinking man!
posted by A Secular Franciscan | 8:37 PM
4 Comments:
Wow, Lee, your plate is totally full! So sorry about all the family illnesses. You're in my prayers.
And I didn't even mention my 90-year-old grandmother in another town whom I take out for shopping/dinner every Saturday!
ok, that does it ... I'm taking notes on this list so I can enter your cause for sainthood when you die ...
Becoming parent to your parents is hard. Trying to combine the responsibilities you already have in your life with their needs and still maintain some kind of balance is next to impossible. Guilt seems to be part of the job description no matter what you do. Keep some time for yourself -- I know, easier said than done. Prayers in this difficult time.
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