Rough days

 Not all visits are easy to find the silver linings.  I would be lying if I said that I didn’t have to sometimes search…really, really hard to find one.  As I did today.

 

Dad was very anxious.  As we walked in the nurse was coming towards us and stated that she was actually looking for my dad.  She said he had been wondering a lot today and she was not sure where he had wondered off too.  I started to panic for a minute worrying if he was stuck in a bathroom or someone’s room and couldn’t get out.  But as we approached the living room area, there he was half sitting, half lying down on the sofa.  The lights were dimmed and Family Feud was playing.  There was no huge grin on his face when we said hello, there was no excitement in his eyes, just a very bleak nod and hello.  I thought the boys would even bring him a smile, but we got nothing.  We sat beside him and didn’t get a whole lot of conversation.  He told us he had just treaded through the water outside and his socks were all wet.  I looked down to find that one of his socks was missing.  He said he needed to go and grab something and got up.  He was having a hard time getting up from the sofa, so I helped him.  He walked over to a set of shelves, removed a book and placed it on the table.  There was a speaker sitting on the table as well and he said he needed to get the key.  Fiddles around with the speaker box for a brief moment and then returned to the sofa.  Within minutes he was trying to get up again.  So I stood to help him up and followed him to the hall way.  He informed me that we were going to go get something to eat.  As we were walking down the hallway he said look at all of those big spiders.  I desperately started looking because I hate spiders.  Luckily there was just one spider curled up in the corner of the hall, someone had already stepped on it (I imagine it was Dad).  We got to his room, walked in, and walked back out.  This went on our entire visit.  Up and down, up and  down, no conversation just short sentences that none of us understood. 

 

No big smiles, no hugs, and a lot of silence.  I even went in to give dad a hug and I think I scared him because he jumped a bit.  Think Vanessa, think.  There has to be something good, there has to be something to make this awful, depressing moment feel like something other than what it is.  I got nothing.  I started to cry.  I started to get angry and felt the weight of it all crush my soul.  I didn’t want to be there any more, I didn’t want to face the realization that this is our life.  I just wanted to run out of there and scream.

 

On the way home, we drove through the country.  We had the windows rolled down and the wind was blowing our hair around (well, I guess just mine HA!).  The sun was setting over the corn fields.  There were combines harvesting the corn, a dust filled the air.  The air smelled of crisp fall like weather, hard to explain to anyone who doesn’t live in the mid-west.  The breeze coming through the truck was warm but yet a little chilly due to the setting sun.  I laid my head back and took it all in.    I love this time of year.  But I hate the season of life I am in.  And then it hit me, and I went back to the blog post I wrote months back about living in the moment.  So I looked over at Dennis who was enjoying the breeze and silence, looked back at the boys who were doing the same, and smiled.  What a beautiful moment.  I realized that I have to take my visits with my dad as they are.  Not force anything, just let them happen as they are meant to happen.  But the most important thing I realized is that I have to be okay with that.  I can’t be angry over something that none of us can change.  Dad has rough days just like all of us, and that is ok.  Silver lining.