Sunday, February 17, 2008

Dear Hearts and Gentle People*

A whole month has passed. My father fell, was hospitalized, had surgery, and is now in rehab. My brother and sisters and I are looking after my mother. (She's started telling me I look like *Bing Crosby, whom I'm actually distantly related to, though she doesn't remember that, so maybe I do look like Bing Crosby.) Tomrrow we're having a family meeting. And one of my dogs has been very sick.

When Dad was delusional from the drugs the first night following surgery, my brother and I sat with him, trying to calm him down. As I drove home at 1:30 in the morning -- my brother settled into a hospital chair for the duration of the night -- it struck me that I had spent more time touching my father in those few hours than I had since I was a baby.


This is what I did tonight: