My heart is so heavy today. I have many things to share, but thoughts are mostly consumed with family, in particular my father.
He had a stroke a few years ago. A mild one. But on his followup appointment, it was discovered that he had Parkinson's disease. My mother, a retired Registered Nurse has been a super hero as his caregiver. I have actually been more concerned about her taking on too much. He has thrived in her care. And I needn't worry about my mother. She is an optimist, a hard worker, an early rise - the backbone of our whole family!
My mother and I have been having breakfast together once a week for many years. But recently, since we discovered The Diner in Vancouver, we have been meeting twice a week.
It has been good for us. We talk about our accomplishments and our concerns. Yesterday we had a family dinner. My father walked very slowly into the restaurant, clinging to my mother's arm. He sat quietly at the table. He sipped his ice water periodically and looked around at his family, his large eyes seemingly filled with wonder.
I wonder what he was thinking. He said not a word the whole time.
This morning at breakfast, my mother and I talked about the future. I recommended she get a wheelchair for him. She has a little notebook that she writes down observations and questions for the doctor. I complimented her on this. People could learn a lot from my mother!
I am online doing some research about Parkinson's. It is an interesting disease. But frustrating for the family members. It is a degenerative disease, but not in itself fatal. And it does not affect everyone the same.
But I have a feeling my father may be on the home stretch. It concerns me that he is not talking, because something tells me he has some things to say.
Funny how we wait our whole lives sometimes, without saying our true feelings to our loved ones. Sometimes it is too late.
There is so much sadness and tragedy lately in the news. I struggle to keep my spirits up. But I continue. Maybe I will write my father a letter. Or, better still, talk to him. Before it is too late.
Speaking of which, I need to race out to teach piano.
I still need to blog about my interview experience last week. Amongst other things.
Perhaps tomorrow.
For now, I hope you are enjoying this beautiful sunny Monday!
Love,
Zita
P.S. I did a very short Qi Gong and hoop workout this morning. Day 57. My goal, now that the weather is warming up, is to rise earlier and hoop in the park. Hopefully tomorrow!
He had a stroke a few years ago. A mild one. But on his followup appointment, it was discovered that he had Parkinson's disease. My mother, a retired Registered Nurse has been a super hero as his caregiver. I have actually been more concerned about her taking on too much. He has thrived in her care. And I needn't worry about my mother. She is an optimist, a hard worker, an early rise - the backbone of our whole family!
My mother and I have been having breakfast together once a week for many years. But recently, since we discovered The Diner in Vancouver, we have been meeting twice a week.
It has been good for us. We talk about our accomplishments and our concerns. Yesterday we had a family dinner. My father walked very slowly into the restaurant, clinging to my mother's arm. He sat quietly at the table. He sipped his ice water periodically and looked around at his family, his large eyes seemingly filled with wonder.
I wonder what he was thinking. He said not a word the whole time.
This morning at breakfast, my mother and I talked about the future. I recommended she get a wheelchair for him. She has a little notebook that she writes down observations and questions for the doctor. I complimented her on this. People could learn a lot from my mother!
I am online doing some research about Parkinson's. It is an interesting disease. But frustrating for the family members. It is a degenerative disease, but not in itself fatal. And it does not affect everyone the same.
But I have a feeling my father may be on the home stretch. It concerns me that he is not talking, because something tells me he has some things to say.
Funny how we wait our whole lives sometimes, without saying our true feelings to our loved ones. Sometimes it is too late.
There is so much sadness and tragedy lately in the news. I struggle to keep my spirits up. But I continue. Maybe I will write my father a letter. Or, better still, talk to him. Before it is too late.
Speaking of which, I need to race out to teach piano.
I still need to blog about my interview experience last week. Amongst other things.
Perhaps tomorrow.
For now, I hope you are enjoying this beautiful sunny Monday!
Love,
Zita
P.S. I did a very short Qi Gong and hoop workout this morning. Day 57. My goal, now that the weather is warming up, is to rise earlier and hoop in the park. Hopefully tomorrow!
Comments
Post a Comment