(no subject)
Dad's home, my brother drove him home from the hospital on Saturday. He was very glad to be back at the house. We are watching his temperature, and his breathing is a bit loud. He has new medicines to take and exercises to do. I hope he keeps up with them.
Some of the preparations I made were for naught, the most annoying of which was the day bed. I had to dismantle the thing to get it down the stairs and through the doorway. He spent about ten minutes on it and finally agreed that it was uncomfortable. Yep, told him it would be. He's too cheap to buy a new one. He crowds in with my mom. He asked me to take the bed out when I have the chance, and that what he could really use is the old chest of drawers from the upstairs bedroom.
Late on Saturday I went to a meeting with my siblings, all six of us. I have one sister, she comes in third. I am the youngest.
As any ex of mine will tell you, my family does not communicate. So you can imagine what the conversation was like, awkward with a lot of pregnant silences. Still, I am proud of what my siblings and I accomplished. It was hard, but we stuck it through. Even though my sister left in tears at one point, she came back. My second brother, although hot with mix of anger and embarrassment, stayed to the end and then quietly excused himself.
The good news is my folks are doing ok financially. They took a hit like everyone in the recent crisis, but seem to be weathering it pretty well. Most of their wealth is tied up in the house. It was suggested that I should consider buying it, there are certain tax advantages if a child buys the home.
That was when I had my own bomb to drop. I am ready to move out. The toll my living with my parents has taken over the past two years has been taxing. My attitude and general well being (I gained 15 pounds) have steadily gotten worse. Even if I could afford to buy the house, I don't think I would want to.
I want to see my Dad through his recovery, but after that I think it is time to think about me and move on.
Some of the preparations I made were for naught, the most annoying of which was the day bed. I had to dismantle the thing to get it down the stairs and through the doorway. He spent about ten minutes on it and finally agreed that it was uncomfortable. Yep, told him it would be. He's too cheap to buy a new one. He crowds in with my mom. He asked me to take the bed out when I have the chance, and that what he could really use is the old chest of drawers from the upstairs bedroom.
Late on Saturday I went to a meeting with my siblings, all six of us. I have one sister, she comes in third. I am the youngest.
As any ex of mine will tell you, my family does not communicate. So you can imagine what the conversation was like, awkward with a lot of pregnant silences. Still, I am proud of what my siblings and I accomplished. It was hard, but we stuck it through. Even though my sister left in tears at one point, she came back. My second brother, although hot with mix of anger and embarrassment, stayed to the end and then quietly excused himself.
The good news is my folks are doing ok financially. They took a hit like everyone in the recent crisis, but seem to be weathering it pretty well. Most of their wealth is tied up in the house. It was suggested that I should consider buying it, there are certain tax advantages if a child buys the home.
That was when I had my own bomb to drop. I am ready to move out. The toll my living with my parents has taken over the past two years has been taxing. My attitude and general well being (I gained 15 pounds) have steadily gotten worse. Even if I could afford to buy the house, I don't think I would want to.
I want to see my Dad through his recovery, but after that I think it is time to think about me and move on.