The one where the work

week is finally over and I’m psyching myself up to go down to visit my parents tomorrow.  I’m ready to get it over with.  I feel really horrible about that, how I feel, but it is what it is.  Since my mom has been in a nursing home for the past year of so, Daddy has done such a good job of shutting everyone out (including me) that could be of help and support, it’s very difficult emotionally for me to see how he’s deteriorating physically and mentally. He’s in his 80s for heaven’s sake and spends about 18 hours a day at the NH, just sitting there, trying to take care of her.  He’s quit buying food because “he eats all his meals at the NH”.  He’s skin and bones and can hardly get around.  The last time I (we – meaning me and Mr. Iknead) tried to talk to him about possibly looking into them relocating closer to Little Rock, he and I got into a screaming match and I promised myself that I was done with trying to help; I have to keep reminding myself that he is choosing to live this way, I hate it but have to live with it.  Did I mention that I’m an only child?  I am. 

Enough already.  I’m going to work on En Pointe.  This is what I have so far:

     

Setting a good example for children takes all the fun out of middle age.  William Feather (1908-1976)

B.

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