Somehow I found a piece of driftwood, a scrap of a someone else's journey, I hold onto for dear life.
The ship is now long gone, even though sometimes in the dark I still hear the sounds I left behind.
All I can do now is hold tight to what I see, what I feel.
And Hope...
My Dad received some medication to assist with the ammonia levels, it seems to be working, slowly. The dementia symptoms are fading, but others have taken their place.
What is this legion of health issues we face? Can someone just step in and take care of them, all at once?
If only that were true...
The stories I grew up hearing, provide little more than entertainment when reality is before us. Perhaps we can wish...and we hope...and we hope...and we hope...
But we know, if we don't do something, nothing will happen.
We can hold on to the piece of castaway driftwood, and hope the almighty tide will take us somewhere good...
Or we can hang on and start paddling, looking for the lights on the horizon, and set our course and minds to live, to succeed, to win.
What does it mean to win?
We made it to the horizon, we walked up on the beach of life, dragging our exhausted selves to a safe area, and collapse.
Only long enough to catch our breath - then we start again - too many people counting on us, got to do the right thing, whether it is understood or not, must press on.
We are in a lull - the storm is not raging, and I hope the lights on the horizon are not a mirage.
I think we are getting somewhere now...
Perhaps the rambling is too much - let me cut to the chase.
My Dad appears to be doing better, although his liver is still failing, and he has received another serious dignosis from the GI doctor - his mind is a little more clear than before.
He is still feeble and frail.
I feel I need to protect him, I owe it to him, he is my father.
As hard as it is for me, he has had the grace and strength to face his issues without waivering.
I am learning about strength...he teaches me still.
And I am paddling...looking for the lights on the horizon.
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