Overwhelmed

30 May 2008 at 8:50 am (dad)
Tags: , ,

Last night I was trying to work on my dad’s afghan to get it done before he dies and I just got frustrated with all of it. I decided the square I was working on was too much work for a pattern I didn’t really seem to like, and then I decided I hated every square in that book and didn’t want to do any of it. I think I’m really just overwhelmed with the idea of finishing it. My mom tells me he’s sleeping more and more because his pain meds put him to sleep but he can’t stand to be without them. They went out to eat the other night and he had two hours’ worth of oxygen with him, but they ran out while they were on their way home and he was sitting in the car gasping. Mom needs me to show her how to turn on the closed captioning on her tv because Dad can’t hear it anymore. She said he’s forgetting more and more, which means I really need to write down all the things that are in my head, the stories he’s told me over the years. I don’t want to hear any of this! Can’t I just stick my head in the sand like an ostrich in the cartoons? La la la la la, happy place, happy place.


5 Comments

  1. Sillycakes said,

    30 May 2008 at 9:27 am

    Fuck. I know this doesn’t help, and I hate myself for saying it because of that, but…Jesus, I’m sorry. I wish to hell I could take this pain away from you.

  2. crankydragon said,

    30 May 2008 at 9:35 am

    It’s ok. I luvs you, and it helps to know someone’s reading and thinking about me. :)

  3. Jeff Wetherington said,

    1 June 2008 at 5:59 am

    Been through it with my dad 9 years ago and now going through it with my mom. You have all my best thoughts and wishes. It is a hard thing to go through.

  4. Leslie said,

    1 June 2008 at 5:48 pm

    It sucks, and i want to fix it for you. If you just want someone to listen to you talk about it, let me know.

  5. Lish said,

    2 June 2008 at 3:20 pm

    What we did with my grandmother was to get a voice recorder and make cds out of various stories from her life… We’d ask her questions and she’d answer and tell us the stories.
    I miss her like hell.


Post a Comment