Warm feet

A heartfelt thanks to everyone that has been in touch, left a comment or dropped a line. Try as I might, replying to everyone will be a little tight over the next bit of time, but it really means more than I can express.

I thank you.

Honestly, I’m not sure how I feel about pouring all this into an online venue, but if normal media showed a shred of compassion, I really think the world would be a better place.

Where’s the channel for good news? I swear there is a market.

I made it over to my sister’s house yesterday, where she had miraculously fashioned a bedroom for my father with the aid of family and friends. A wall dissects the great room, providing a private area with room for a bed, tv, bedside table and sofa with a view of the backyard. Spring can’t come soon enough.

My dad was released from the hospital the prior evening and is able to get around, albeit a tad slow. His speech is slurred, but improves with each passing day. His left arm immobile.

I was scared and sad before seeing him, almost making a loop around the block before pulling into the driveway, but my fears have abated some, after this visit.

Watching my brother go through exercises on his arm, I realized how better composed he is than me. His nurturing and tender demeanor – something that was always there, emerges in times like this with clarity.

My sister and brother-in-law, attendant and running the household – the smell of homecooked food, the tv stand placed just so with a pitcher of water filled at all times.

We’re all so different, my siblings. I have to work on my handling – though the years of hug therapy from my friends has been tremendous in helping me take my hands from my pockets.

We all sat down and carved out a schedule to get dad to therapy and treatment. A daily process intended to shrink the growth enough so that he may regain full control of his left side, his arm. There’s four of us and each day of the week, is covered, with Friday being a swing day, where we’ll alternate.

I’m Tuesday.

Today I got him into his shoes and he grumbles, “Here you are, dressing your papi” with a rueful lilt. I chuckled it off with a shrug, blessing the makers of velcro for making the task so easy.

Radiation went quickly. Painless even.

I found out my dad loves double cheeseburgers from McDonalds. He eats them once a week.

We talked about lots of stuff and that made the fear dissipate. I’m not feeling terribly articulate in capturing everything, but I can say I’m beginning to see some glimmer of hope…

A tinge at least.

…rolling around there with all my other worries melting away.

I feel like I have to grow up for real now.

I could never do it for myself.

About the photo:

My niece and I have this little thing: I try to take her photo, and she blocks the camera with a hand or any object that is nearby.

She’s quite good at it.

Alas, I got this image of her new knit booties and let her off the hook this past evening. My brother-in-law’s mom sent down a whole box of ’em handmade for each member of their family.

To sum this all up Strangers-With-Candy-like, the moral of the photo is that: Yeah, things might not look great at first, but if they keep you warm and come from the heart, chances are, they’re awesome.