Bad origami

Tuesday Howie was saying, "You must be mir, mir, mir...."  I figured he was trying to say "Mary Jane", my sister.  "No, Dad, I am Nancy."  

Then he said, "You must be a miracle."

No, I'm just a grumpy, broke, stressed middle-aged woman trying to do the right thing.

When I got there Tuesday he was all wet from trying to grab a juice off the supper tray just beyond his reach.  The aide always brings the tray in and sets it on the wheelie table, but they leave it for me to feed Dad (or sit with him while he tries to feed himself).  So after nine hours wrangling preschoolers, I got to change my dad's gown and bedding, scoot Dad up to the top of the bed again, and spend an hour while he tried to eat and coughed his nonproductive choking drowning cough.  Dad weighs so little I can grab the mat under him and pull him up.  If I don't move him up, when I raise the bed it folds him in the wrong place.  

I feel a bit folded in the wrong place myself, but it helps to be walking in the park again.  I found my retirement home:

© 2011 Nancy L. Ruder


Kim said...

I like your retirement neighborhood!

Kathleen said...

Just let me know if you need a roommate in your tree.

Collagemama said...

Don't you think it is a big improvement over the cardboard refrigerator box I was expecting to live in?

Christine Thresh said...

You are a miracle.


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