(no subject)
Perhaps not all who read this are aware that I moved back to the bay area a couple years ago to care for my elderly parents. I do not regret that decision. I love my folks, and as trying as living with my mother's failing hearing and memory, my father's constant snoring in front of the television, there are joys, times of celebration, slices of time that only I share with them and remember.
This evening I drove with my folks to a tavern in Santa Clara. A girlfriend was throwing a surprise 50th Birthday party for my brother. Mom and Dad were overjoyed to be there. The beer was flowing and the music loud. Most of my siblings were there, including a sister who drove up on a weekday from Fresno. She asked if Dad was up for dancing with her. I watched for the fading look in my father's eyes. We left before the birthday cake came out. My brother thanked me for bringing them.
Last week Dad was diagnosed with Lung Cancer. He has to have more than half of one of his lungs removed. Yep, he was a heavy smoker most of his life, but managed to quit about 5 years ago. Before surgery, he must go through several tests in the next month, among them a brain scan to make sure the cancer has not entered his brain and an EKG to be sure his heart can withstand surgery. If he survives the surgery he could potentially be in for several months of recovery.
I find that I am afraid, for them, for myself, worry that I might fail them somehow. Mostly, I am afraid of this unknown dark territory.
This evening I drove with my folks to a tavern in Santa Clara. A girlfriend was throwing a surprise 50th Birthday party for my brother. Mom and Dad were overjoyed to be there. The beer was flowing and the music loud. Most of my siblings were there, including a sister who drove up on a weekday from Fresno. She asked if Dad was up for dancing with her. I watched for the fading look in my father's eyes. We left before the birthday cake came out. My brother thanked me for bringing them.
Last week Dad was diagnosed with Lung Cancer. He has to have more than half of one of his lungs removed. Yep, he was a heavy smoker most of his life, but managed to quit about 5 years ago. Before surgery, he must go through several tests in the next month, among them a brain scan to make sure the cancer has not entered his brain and an EKG to be sure his heart can withstand surgery. If he survives the surgery he could potentially be in for several months of recovery.
I find that I am afraid, for them, for myself, worry that I might fail them somehow. Mostly, I am afraid of this unknown dark territory.