Tag Archives: Mom

This part of adulthood is The Worst

 

This post was originally entitled “I am nothing but feelings.” You’ll see.Dad dimplesThe phone rang at 10:46 AM on November 17. It was a Monday so I was at work when my parents’ home number flashed on my cell phone, making my heart jump to my throat.

“Hello?” I answered, feeling tense.

It wasn’t Mom, calling to tell me she was taking Dad to the hospital. It was Dad, sounding fine.

I willed myself to breathe again.

Dad said he felt bad for not calling more. He just called to chat.

For years, Dad didn’t know my phone number – seriously – and it drove my mother nuts. She gave him grief about it constantly, writing the number on notepads in the house and entering it into his seldom-used and seldom-seen cell phone. But I always told him the same thing: I know how much you love me.

Still, it’s a surprise when Dad calls. A great surprise. I drop everything for him.

We talked about The Voice, which he absolutely loves. The bromance between Adam and Blake cracks him up. But he has a new favorite now.

Via JustJared and NBC

Dad asked about my cold and told me that he’s feeling good. The last three years have taught me not to take that for granted. Tomorrow is not assured.


Holidays are different now. On Thanksgiving night, I cried in my childhood bedroom thinking ahead to the day when I will no longer have a dad.

I used to save projects for Dad. A necklace that needs fixing. A shelf to be mounted on my apartment wall. He was my own personal McGyver. No challenge was too great for Dad.

But now, Dad is often physically vulnerable. I don’t ask him to do things for me now because I know it would break his heart to say “I can’t. I’m so sorry, Jen.”

My father seems to be fading like an old Polaroid. Sometimes I think about asking if he’s scared. And by scared, I mean about dying. But that’s a door I can’t open. Even thinking and typing the word feels like a betrayal.


Dad spent six days in a hospital two hours’ drive from home last week. His condition, pulmonary hypertension, is very difficult to manage. He has an excellent specialist who does everything you’d want a doctor to do, from calling the house to check in between appointments to visiting my father in the hospital, even though he’s out on vacation.

But getting Dad back on course takes time and tries his patience. He hates the hospital food, and the hospital twin bed and worst of all, the hospital TV that doesn’t offer a guide or menu. Fortunately he loves the nurses (and they love him).

I call a few times each day, trying to encourage and distract him.

“At least The Voice is on tonight, Dad.”

“You’re right, Jen. I can’t wait. It’s good to have something to look forward to.”

“I love you, Dad. So much.”

And then I hang up and cry. I can’t let Dad know how scared I am.


 

December 18 update: Dad was just diagnosed with shingles. 

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I survived the mother-daughter weekend!

I had a mother-daughter weekend in the DC area. A cousin got married and Mom asked me to be her date. Dad is doing pretty well, but his health ups and downs mean he’s less likely to enjoy all of the standing around a wedding reception can entail, or a four-hour car ride.

I was [mostly] happy to step in, for the chance to see relatives and to try to see old friends in DC, time permitting.

And to see my mother too, yes. So long as she didn’t comment on my weight, hairstyle, lack of boyfriend and/or failure to visit.

The wedding was lovely.

Flowers

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Late night TV

Staying up past my ‘bedtime’ has been a way of life, all of my life. As much as I love sleep, I happen to like having my sleep start late.

I couldn’t tell you if nature or nurture made me a night owl. My father in particular, loves to stay up late and when I’m in Rehoboth with my family or back home in Scranton, I am shocked if I find my father has gone to sleep before me.

Even in my earliest memories, I exist as a night owl.

When I was a little kid, Dad worked second shift so I spent most nights with Mom and Nana. While Nana would often retreat to her bedroom in the early evening, my goal was to stay downstairs in the den with my TV-watching Mom as late as possible.

I was a good pretender

I was a good pretender

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Why can’t this weekend last longer?

After a week of miserable rain and humidity, Saturday dawned perfectly pleasant: sunny and dry.

Weather

But it wasn’t the prospect of a good hair day that had me smiling. Instead, it was the fact that the future owner of an unwanted – and very, very large – piece of furniture would soon be removed from my bedroom in the new apartment. Continue reading

The Mother’s Day gift my Mom isn’t getting

And yes, I know Mom isn’t supposed to be capitalized when preceded by ‘my’ or ‘your’ but it just feels wrong not to capitalize it. I will break this rule every time. 

Spring for me is the triple whammy of gift giving: Dad‘s birthday, Mother‘s Day, parents’ wedding anniversary.

M&D

Finding gifts for the people I love more than bacon and naps, who have the means to buy themselves whatever their hearts’ desire AND who always proclaim that they don’t want me spending money on them is hard. Continue reading

Twitter Spotlight: Sarah Orsborn

First I found Sarah’s blog, Ernie Bufflo, which is named for a moniker she gave herself as a child. Twitter came later. Instagram too.

Our lives are quite different but I was drawn in by her writing. This woman is strong–you only need to read about her harrowing delivery of beautiful twins Etta and Claire to gain an inkling of that strength.

Any time I need a lift, I watch this video of Claire walking. You see, Claire has Spina Bifida so this walking thing took extra practice. Look at her go!

And then she takes off! #spinabifida

A video posted by Sarah Orsborn (@erniebufflo) on

Meet Sarah:

Sarah

OneChicklette: Your favorite qualities in a love interest Continue reading