The further Dad gets down this path to transitioning to the other side, the more physical and emotional difficulties he encounters - and the grumpier he gets. At times he can be downright mean. The aides are mostly young girls and struggle with knowing how to help. When Dad was feeling better he was their favorite patient because he would always have cute little comments and jokes for them. He still does at times but most of the time not.

I found this sign on his white board, obviously written by a sweet aide just trying to help.

Technical Things Aside...

I didn't' expect to have a night like this after talking to the hospice nurse just before 5:00. She called to say that Gordon had taken a serious turn for the worse since our visit yesterday. Yesterday, at least he was sitting in his chair, attempting to interact and cracking jokes.

Today, she said, he was still in bed because none of the aides could get him out of bed. He was more lethargic, not responsive, not eating or drinking or taking his meds. It sounded pretty grim.

When I arrived I found that all of the above was true, but not as bad as I had expected. I noticed that there was no moisture in his eyes...his lips were dry and pealing. His color was good, I could get him to drink a little, eat very little and when the aide came to give him his meds (crushed in applesauce) he relented and took the first bite. Just as I was asking the nurse how all that stuff tasted, he pipes in with "boy that stuff is nasty!". It took quite a bit more persuasion to get the second bite between his lips.

I wanted to break up his day a little so I booted up his computer and we looked at old pictures I had loaded on the internet. He would watch some, sleep some, look out the window some...watch some more. He apparently was reflecting on life and his current situation. I asked him if there was something I could do for him. He replied with "I feel comfortable with my future. I just hope my family will have good direction in theirs." I noticed his eyes were moist, and he wiped each eye with his finger. It seems to me that he has more to say but is not quite sure how to get it out. Not because of his mental condition but because of his gender. Trust me, I know the feeling. Marie will back me up on that one too.

At times, quite often actually, I feel the emotions welling up inside of me because of the obvious conclusion to all of this. All the unfinished, unsaid, incomplete things seem to surface at once and it is very over-whelming. But...as I sat there beside his bed and empathized with the thoughts and feelings I imagine he has but can't say...an amazing, deep and calming sense of peace came over me as if to reassure me that things as they are, are just as they ought to be.

I went over to mom's room and spent an hour playing cards and listening to John Denver on her old record player. I commented how nice it sounded and she bragged to me that "I got that at a garage sale for $50". She seemed to be at peace with things and we enjoyed playing cards and listening to the music.

I made the drive home. As I walked in the door was greeted by Marie, Stephanie and Addy. That's nice to come home to. Marie and Stephanie went to play volleyball where Kelsie was to meet them. Addy was ready for bed. We took a minute to look at the circles she drew that day...not bad for a 2 year old.

Before I offered to tuck her in bed I asked her if she wanted to dance for a few minutes. (One of my favorite things to do, you know...grand daughter dances!) She agreed so I put on some of our favorite soft piano/instrumental music and danced. Just before she settled onto my shoulder for the dance, she pointed out when the piano portion chimed into the song and then said "I'm happy" and layed her head on my shoulder.

Me too, Addy...