Silent Warrior

 I am posting this over a week late.  But with understandable reason.  I won't get into much of the details right now, but dad is not doing well.  It has now been a week since the decline and there have been many changes in a very short period of time.  Changes that need time, patience, and adjustment.  Just know we are hanging in there, still trying to search for the silver linings. 

With that being said, last Tuesday, I still had my lunch date at Perkins, however, it was with my mom.  Dad was unable to come, but mom showed up for me (silver lining).  This, I will be forever grateful.  The lunch hour was filled with talk about dad, the one topic that we seem to have so much to talk about these days.  We cry, we laugh, we reminisce, and we plan.    

Mom has been the main caregiver for dad since his diagnoses.  She has seen him go from good to not so good, not so good to bad, and bad to worse in a closer and more intimate way that anyone else has.  24 hours, 7 days a week, she has been faced with the reality of what is happening to dad.  So every time she needs to get something off her chest, I am more than happy to listen.   However, I know my mom and I know that she only calls me a few times out of the hundreds of times she is hurting. I think it is because she thinks she is bothering me, but that is so far from the truth.  I have watched her face the ugliness of this disease with a brave face.  Not always, but more often than not.  

I have tried to be the glue, the glue keeping everyone together.  Reminding her and others that we will get through this, dad will be ok, and it was best to accept this trial we have been given and look for all the silver linings.  But last night, I lost it.  I am sad and angry that things have come to this stage.  I do not want dad to leave their home.  I don't want to finalize that.  As mom sat with me, she explained to me that it was time for me to accept this part of the journey.  The part of letting go of what I can't control.  I guess I thought that if dad could just stay in the home with her, that would mean we weren't giving up.  That we could always keep him safe and protected.  But as I cried, she reassured me that we are not giving up, we are just taking the next (hard) step in this journey.  

The idea of dad living else where without her, still makes me sad.  It still makes my stomach get in knots and my heart race.  When I get angry, I get silent.  Hence why this has taken longer to post. So I am taking things minute by minute.  I will just have to figure this new way of life out and figure out a new way of doing things.  And I will.  We all will.  I have a lot of support between family and friends and I know they are here for me when my glue starts to fade and lose it's strength (silver lining).

As mom and I finished up our lunch the waiter asked us if we needed anything else.  I ordered a slice of lemon meringue pie to go and handed it to mom.  I needed dad to know I didn't forget about him or the special moments we have shared the last few months.  And I need mom to know that her showing up for me meant the world!