only backgroundI'm a wife, mother and grandmother. I'm opinionated. I contradict myself frequently. Most of all, I love my kids. I believe in them. I fight for them. They're weird and wonderful. If you want to know more, here's a bunch of other stuff from my old site.
My mom was finally discharged from the hospital. I picked her up yesterday, loaded her luggage and walker into the car and delivered her to my dad. He was ecstatic.
I’ve loved tending to my dad this past week or so. He’s still aware enough to be able to do many things for himself but is at that age (and stage of Alzheimer’s) where he really couldn’t care for himself for an entire week without help. I know he doesn’t remember every detail of the past week but he does realize that I’ve been here taking care of him. And he still has that wonderful sense of humor, too.
Once we got my mom settled into her recliner in the living room, she asked my dad how his week was. He said it was good to have his wife home instead of his mother. Then he looked at me with that sheepish grin and we all just laughed. I know he didn’t always want to eat when I fed him and he got irritated when I tried to help him walk, but as along as he saw my caring for him as “mothering” then it’s all good.
I know my mom was anxious to get home. My dad was even more anxious. No matter how well I cared for him, it just wasn’t the same. After 51 years together, I guess no one can fill my mom’s shoes in my dad’s mind. She’s one in a million.
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They’re both so cute. I’m glad she’s home, and that the surgery went well.