...we will survive...

This week was a rough one.

On Monday and Tuesday, I needed to be a daughter and sister. First and second. Then I could be a wife, mother, grandmother, friend.

Without going into alot of details, Monday, mid-morning, my Dad called me about taking my Mom to an ER. She’s 86. He’s 85. They still live in the home they’ve lived in for 20 years. (About twelve minutes—now—from me and My Sweet Hubby—aka MSH.) It is positively ridiculous. That they have stayed in a home too big for their needs and abilities. It is nuts, frankly. Particularly for my Mom. She is extremely deaf. She has no sight in her right eye. She has some sight in her left eye—but is gradually losing that. She is very feeble. Cannot walk without a cane or walker. She gets dizzy. She needed to be in an assisted living—or nursing—home five years ago. It is sad. Extremely sad. And what most of us will face someday. If we’re lucky enough to live to 86.

I got to their home fairly fast. After talking to her, my Dad and I agreed she didn’t, in fact, need to go to a hospital. Not at that point. But I insisted my Dad begin the process of finding a nursing home for her. On Tuesday, I went back for several hours to help him do the paperwork. I let my brother and two sisters know what was happening via group text. Thank goodness for texts. And emails.

Now we wait on the long-term care company and two doctors who can decide our Mom’s fate. I despise waiting. Will be using all of my strength and patience to keep my sanity. (I actually had a mini-meltdown with my parents Tuesday afternoon—while working on the application. I was not proud of myself. What I said was right. How I said it could have been improved. I apologized. I’ve promised myself I’ll do everything I can to stay chill-ier during the next few weeks. Sigh.)

I spent Tuesday night with My Princesses, Little Leighton (aka Biscuit) and Belle, while TLC had a Moms’ Night Out with dear friends (her Hubby was out of town...). This brought me back to the JOY and laughter I needed.

Wednesday was fairly uneventful. Spent more fabulous time with My Little Gals. Stayed up too late watching Hallmark movies. (Why do I do that? They’re recorded.)

Thursday, TLC and I took Biscuit and Belle to the Kimball Museum in Ft. Worth to see a Monet exhibit. We had a very lovely and quite cultural morning! (Yes—we spent as much time at the museum gift-shop as we did in the actual exhibit. Duh.) Then we ate our gluten-free “car” picnic, prepared by Chef Grammy, on the way home. SPECIAL memories.

MSH had been playing golf. He beat me home. After we talked about the splendid morning we’d both had, we decided to run several errands. He was going to do Costco after he’d dropped me at Target. First, we had to stop at a Sally’s for me to buy hairspray. (Only place I can find it around here.) It took me 5 minutes. MSH was waiting for me. As I walked out and saw where he was parked, I could see him looking down. Clearly on his phone. I started walking towards his car when he looked up and saw me.

Without looking to his left—he put his car in Drive and turned to the right towards me. Running into a SUV he never saw. Completely tearing up the front/end of his 2019 Rav 4 he’s had for less than three months. (He literally pulled the entire front fender off and put it in the back of his car. They don’t make ‘em like they used to, Y’all.)

The doctor he ran into was a truly kind man. Not angry. Calm and nice. (Qualities I cherish in physicians!) His wife was extremely understanding and downright sweet. Thank You, Lord God.

It was a difficult afternoon. Could it have been worse? Yes. Did I cry? Yes. Did MSH get terribly down and discouraged? Yes. He was mad at himself. Embarrassed. Ready to give up his license. Which is, of course, completely unnecessary and silly.

Friday was better. Today has been wonderful!

We’ll be working on our schedules/calendars with care and caution while we share one vehicle (Could be 4-6 weeks before he gets his car back...sniff...sniff...).

We’ll survive this. One of my most treasured friends of forty years died two months ago. Her grandson—who was 20—died last night. Of cancer. I cannot...I cannot even imagine...

A wrecked car? Nothing. Nothing when you look at the BIG picture.

Have a SWEET and SAFE Sunday, Dear Friends...watch where you’re driving. Be thankful for life and breath and blessings...

ELC