Daddy    2009-09-30 17:46:38 ET
I think the hardest part, no I cannot truly say the hardest part. Each thing that happens seems to be the hardest part. It is hard though, so very hard for me to see that my children realize that they are losing something so integral and important in their lives. I ask myself, how are we any different from those who lose loved ones in accidents or by disease? We are not, we are no different and their grief is just as stark and overwhelming as ours. When I see the future, when I stop dealing in the third person, when I let myself realize that it is to me and mine that this is happening, I can barely think upon tomorrow, much less a future without the partner that I was to not only enter into my rusty (golden) years with but to live out the rest of my life. Laughing with him, holding our grandchildren, and great grandchildren, going on walk or trips and at the end of our lives simply drifting around the house waiting for our families to visit with us.

Life has never been something one can control. Life is simply something that happens. Who we are, how we survive, how we teach the ones who love us is all that is in our hands. The scripture tells us that it is not what happens in our lives that matters but rather the way we react to what has happened. All things to His glory and He will never give us more than we are able to bear. My one prayer has always been that at the end of my life I leave each of you with the knowledge that God is with you, he cares for you, he supports you and he walks with you.

I think we have all learned with the observations of our visitor this past week-end, that this is something that is not in our imagination and it is truly happening. We now know that dad is phasing in and out. Now we must take time to grieve. We each must stop, regroup, hold to each other and realize we hurt. Only then, after the denial and anger can we take the next step which is making daddy’s viable, knowledgeable years some of the best that he has ever had. I will always believe that this will be a very slow progression. Dad may become confused and frustrated but we will deal with those moments as they happen. Laughter and hugs seem to be the best method now.

So, how will I end this letter to you. My loves you must realize that as each of you grieve in your own way so must I. You must allow me to make the choices that I feel are best. You can talk with me with the realization that I will not always agree with you nor you with me. I will, however, listen to what you have to say.

You have also asked me, "Will I be able to know when dad cannot do something?" I promise you that this man who is my life will show me all the clues I need to decide what each moment requires.

I love you all,


 Well, My Dear,    2009-09-18 18:19:04 ET
This past couple of weeks have been uneventful. As I tried to explain before, all of this runs a strange cycle. An example would be my telling dad that we could take the two deer we had rehabilitated over to Jamie's mom's ranch since they don't hunt there. Dad asked if we were going tomorrow and I told him we had to wait to hear from Jamie since her mom might not be home. His question was why wouldn't she be home, she lived there didn't she. It was as if he could not understand that she works or that she simply might have other plans.

Yesterday daddy decided it was Wednesday. He was adamant that the day was Wednesday. I explained it was Thursday. Dad went to the calendar and looked. He never said another word but he sat there as if thinking on it and then got up and went to bed.

I think daddy knows. He knows something is wrong but he will not talk about it. Daddy always talks. After all these years of living with a chatter box he learned to talk in self defense. You know, the ...."You better communicate with me or I will just keep talking until you do."

My heart aches as I look at this man lying beside me and try to see what is going on in his mind. There must be a fear there that he cannot deal with. His logic is often nonexistent. Jokes we us to share no longer live because daddy has become me and cannot understand them. Games that require logic, the ones he so loved to play, those logical ones that took all of you the entire day to play. Daddy no longer likes them.

I can say that I realize that God is walking by my side but it does not take away the pain from my heart. I know many walk far harder paths with cancer or other terminal diseases and my heart is also with them though it does not lessen my own feelings.

I fear the day I will receive a call that daddy does not know where he is because I know that will be the beginning of the end of his independance.

We are young and I will be glad when I can stop working. I want to be home with dad, to walk his days with him, to take trips with him, to visit places with him and be here, to be here before daddy is not.

So my darlings, this is todays letter.


 Will-o'-the-wisp and Earthquake Lights    2009-09-02 23:24:07 ET
It is now too late or too early to calm my mind and write anything which would pass as the writing of anyone but a totally confused person. However, I want to remember my title so that I may think upon it. Perhaps then my pen and paper will remember each other with a gasp of clarity.

 The Unpredictability!    2009-08-31 16:09:55 ET
We had to buy a new television. Lightning hit the pole by our house which ultimately blew out the telephones, the television, one computer, the well and other odds and ends. We bought the television yesterday and dad picked it up today. Dad put the flat screen in the bedroom after completely dusting the top of the armoire, moved the bedroom television to the livingroom and set both televisions up with the dish network, vcr and dvd players. When I came home he gave me the remotes because he could not put his mind around how to program them from looking at the book. I told him I could not understand it either and called the network. I'll not throw in his face what he cannot do.

This thing that robs us attacks in sly little spurts. I know you are far from home my children but this is not always an in your face thing to describe. I do agree however, to write these days on paper and deal again as the third person makes it easier to walk this path. Perhaps I will even be able to look back on this with fresh eyes when the path becomes to cluttered.

 DD 214    2009-08-30 07:27:53 ET
Today I was handed some papers, one of which was a DD 214. Do we need to keep these any longer or may I shred them? With which I answered, oh, let me look at all your old Navy papers. I am doing a scrapbook. Oh, God, a DD 214. What else might have been tossed?
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