My Usual Sunday

My father had a fall.

I didn’t realize how bad it was until I saw him over lunch.

Half is face is black and blue.

He says it looked worse when it just happened.

I tried to not look shocked but I was.

His caregiver has been replaced.

 

Dad likes to walk to the kitchen at wee hours for a snack.

I suggested that he keep a bell by his side and ring it before he stands.

I’m sure he was frightened by his fall, although downplays it.

I feel helpless thinking about his situation.

It’s no different from other aging individuals.

I just wish he wasn’t so vulnerable and lonely.

 

Without thinking, he always shrugs off how the food isn’t anything great.

But in reality, it’s delicious!  He eats everything on his plate.

It’s a lot of food and I cannot imagine him wiping out his plate if it isn’t good.

He’s always been the kind of man that complains more than praises.

Maybe it’s a result of his loneliness.

We strolled around the mall after his meal.

 

I wish I wasn’t such a restless person.  

Maybe I’d be able to sit it out a little longer with him.

I had a list of errands to accomplish. 

I’m that kind of person that must tick off my “to do” list for the day.

Otherwise, why carry a list with me.

 

My Sunday ended with thoughts about my father.

Dad is surrounded by caring people who constantly look after him.

But it’s not enough.  He continues to long and look for what’s not possible.

I know that he craves for a life outside family and routine.

Unfortunately, it’s not something that comes easy at his late age.

 

He chooses to remain guarded, searching and hoping for spring to come.

I know he is grateful and appreciative when it comes to family support.

But the sadness remains masked underneath his boredom.

So much I have learned from merely observing him.

Comments 3

 
Rosy Cole on Monday, 01 June 2015 14:37

You're going on without him. Even now, that's how he senses it. There are so many ways of saying 'goodbye' and sometimes they're prolonged and painful. God bless you and keep you both, and thanks for giving others a chance to reflect on their blessings, what is of real value, what passes and what lives on. x.

You're going on without him. Even now, that's how he senses it. There are so many ways of saying 'goodbye' and sometimes they're prolonged and painful. God bless you and keep you both, and thanks for giving others a chance to reflect on their blessings, what is of real value, what passes and what lives on. x.
Virginia M Macasaet on Monday, 01 June 2015 23:24

Thanks Rosy! Only after reading your comment did I realize that yes, i many ways I am setting things in place, laying the ground work for farewell. Uncannily, it's the same method I used on my mother 6 months before she passed away, only then I did not realize what I was doing. This is a good way of preparing myself, slow and sure...

Thanks Rosy! Only after reading your comment did I realize that yes, i many ways I am setting things in place, laying the ground work for farewell. Uncannily, it's the same method I used on my mother 6 months before she passed away, only then I did not realize what I was doing. This is a good way of preparing myself, slow and sure...
Sue Martin Glasco on Wednesday, 03 June 2015 03:54

This was so good because it was so honest. It is difficult to see our children grow up and leave home to struggle with growing-up challenges. And it is difficult to see our parents decline, and struggle with aging challenges. Our sorrow and discomfort are part of the price of love and for the privilege of having had them in our lives. There is nothing we can do to stop the inevitable. But it is wise to know it will come, and we best make the best use of the time we have.

This was so good because it was so honest. It is difficult to see our children grow up and leave home to struggle with growing-up challenges. And it is difficult to see our parents decline, and struggle with aging challenges. Our sorrow and discomfort are part of the price of love and for the privilege of having had them in our lives. There is nothing we can do to stop the inevitable. But it is wise to know it will come, and we best make the best use of the time we have.
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