Aged P.

There isn’t much that I can write that hasn’t already been written, more eloquently than I ever could, on the passage of time and how the role of caretaker transitions from one generation to the next.

I have been a caretaker of my own children for eight years now. But now I find myself looking at the very likely possibility that I may be caretaker for my dad. Not next month. Hopefully not next year. But eventually.

I know that millions of people at my stage in life face this same reality, but it’s different when you know what is eroding your parent’s ability to take care of himself. It’s different when you can see around the bend, but you can’t tell how rough the terrain will be.

Parkinson’s has my dad in its web. Not completely trapped, but weekly gumming up his wings with a new hurdle, a new restriction, a new challenge. My dad–my strong, quiet, patient dad is aging. I know this happens to all of us. Of course it does. That isn’t what bothers me. It’s seeing his freedom slip. It’s watching him have to resign to what he can do, not what he wants to do, that is grieving me.

Perhaps it is because he is so quiet and so patient that this disease seems particularly harsh. Dad has never been a thrill-seeker. He’s never wanted the spotlight. He’s a man who has dwelled, quite contentedly, enjoying his creature comforts. And now some days even those are difficult for him to enjoy.

We don’t know how quickly his Parkinson’s will progress, but I can tell you that the improvements that I observed this spring once he started his meds have already waned. A lifetime lefty-he’s finally had to teach himself how to eat right-handed. He tells me is starting to get concerned about his driving. He gets up extra early in the mornings, but some days it’s so difficult getting ready that he has trouble getting to work on time.

Taking care of Dad is a role that I will willingly accept. Seeing to his physical needs is one thing. It’s ministering to his spirit that has me most concerned. Unlike Wemmick’s deaf but jovial Aged P in Great Expectations, somehow I don’t think that just giving Dad a nod and a smile is going to be enough to lift his spirits. And sometimes, between him and me, at least on my part, there is so much to say but the words just aren’t there.

Even writing about it here and now… the right words just aren’t there.

Transitioning…

…into a new school year is always a big adjustment, and this year has been no different in that regard.

I’m off to a good start. Things are definitely different at work. In most ways better; the rest is yet to be determined.

I am happy to report that Little Miss G has been loving school this year so far. She’s in a new school, with a new teacher, and has a new best friend that I will refer to here as BWK for reasons only known to me. (HA!) Some of her former classmates are in her class this year, and that has helped her transition go well. I made a commitment to try to be more active in her school and to try to meet more parents. So far, I’ve been successful, making regular contact with BWK’s mom and two other moms I’ve come to know over the summer. BWK has already visited our house for a Saturday playdate, and it went of smashingly well, even with Super L tagging along for most of the morning.

Super L is in a new daycare and has started preschool three days a week at a Lutheran school. Every day I pray that she will not say anything too awfully inappropriate at school. So far, God has granted my prayer, but I’m sure that we will not get through this year unscathed. She went from being my sweet, mild, laid-back one to my pistol, my wild card, my oh-em-gee this kid will say anything to anybody child.  For example, she shouted at our 85 year old neighbor from across the front yard, “I’M GONNA MAKE YOUR LIFE MISERABLE!!” while brandishing a toy pistol. Completely unprovoked and out of nowhere.

So basically, that is what I’ve been up to for the past five weeks. Summer is fading out slowly, and I am looking forward to the arrival of autumn. I haven’t had my hands on my camera in far too long, and I’m waiting on this change of seasons to give me a good reason to get back out there shooting… there just hasn’t been time. And to be honest, summer isn’t all that pretty in August around here.

About the long silence in this space, well, I beg your forgiveness and thank you for your patience.  And honestly, I haven’t had that much interesting to share.

Hope all of you (whoever trips over this little post here) are doing well!