Days With Daddy

 I didn't post yesterday as I was not in a good head space.  Dad and I had another spat, this time at the hospital.  I told him he treats and talks to everyone else better than he does me.  His response, "Oh yeah, right."  Anyways, we didn't really speak the whole way home other than a few words here and there.  I don't like arguing with Dad.  I don't like division.  He feels like I treat him like an invalid and that we don't "let" him do things on his own.  I asked him what he does for himself?  He tells me to get his coffee and fix his food (at the hotel - at home he will fix his own coffee).  I think a talk with Tim this morning helped me to reframe things mentally. The visit yesterday was uneventful in and of itself.  He had labs and then got his azacitidine.  Beyond that, the nurse came in again for that study to ask Dad a bunch of questions.  We have a difference of opinion on some of Dad's responses to how he i...

 I don't know what I expected; I know what I'd hoped...that this time together would help us grow closer, but it has not. This morning Dad was "commenting" (I say griping) about how things are done at this hospital versus the other one in New Bern.  I know he's tired of being here.  I am too, but complaining about things isn't helping anything.  He got upset that I said he was griping.  Then he got upset at me later because he said I was making something out of nothing when he was unable to put his watch on due to swelling in his lower arm/wrist area.  I mentioned that we should tell the nurse.  He got upset with me saying that they knew he had swelling in the upper arm yesterday from the bandage and it's their job to do something about it if it was a big deal and since they didn't do anything yesterday, it's not a big deal.  I said we didn't know he had swelling all the way down there and that WE don't know what's a big deal or not a b...

 I suppose I need to go backward to go forward.  First off, I'm a Christian wife and mom.  We lost our daughter 8+ years ago. I'm married to a near saint...he must be.  Even before we married I told my husband about the promise I made to Dad, a promise I'm still fulfilling. In 1990, I was barely 20 years old when we suddenly lost my mom. She was 44 and Dad and Mom had been married for 26 years. I guess they had a good marriage.  I never saw them argue. There was relative peace in the house (besides my brother and I constantly arguing). I know they loved each other. My dad worked, sometimes 4 jobs and Mom stayed at home with us. That's the way they wanted it and I was blessed to know Mom was always there.  It did come at a cost, though; I didn't get much time with my Dad. Thus, I didn't really know my dad, not really.  I have a vivid memory of each morning as a little kid, Dad would leave for work and I was just tall enough to see out the dining room wi...