Happy Halloween!

Remembering My Dad

This is a really difficult post for me to write, especially since I've slipped firmly into a deep valley of denial over the past few days. Last Friday morning, just after 5:25 a.m., my dad passed away. He was 81 and tired of being old, but even so his death was quick and shocking. He fell just a few days before that and broke his ankle. On Monday, doctors performed surgery to repair the break and inserted a metal plate. Wednesday, he seemed to be healing well and was even ornery enough to make us wonder how the nurses would put up with him in an extended care facility for 60 days or more. Then came Thursday, and his congestive heart failure began giving him trouble and just 12 hours later, my dad was gone. We hardly had time to catch our breath or absorb the fact that he wasn't doing well. We've been through the ordeal of funeral planning, and even the funeral itself, but we're all still walking around in a kind of daze. I don't know how soon I'll return to some kind of normal schedule, but I'll try to post again in a few days.

Just When You Think You're Catching Up With Life . . .

. . . somebody throws you another curve ball. I've been off the internet for a couple of weeks now because my very first grandchild decided she needed to come into the world 13 1/2 weeks ahead of schedule. We spent several days in the hospital trying to convince her to be patient and wait, but this little girl knows what she wants and she doesn't take no for an answer. Abigail Charlotte arrived after a mere 97 hours of labor, weighing a whopping 2 pounds 9 ounces and stretching to a grand length of 14 1/2 inches. We won't be bringing her home from the hospital for a while yet, but she's doing well and already growing. I'm absolutely thrilled to be a grandmom for the first time, and I'm not bragging one bit when I say she's just about the prettiest baby I've ever seen! I can't wait until she's out of the isolette so I can take some books into the NICU and read to her. While my daughter was in labor with Abigail (no, she's not going to be Abby, at least not while her parents are listening) I received a phone call from my mother letting me know that one of my cousins had died. Gary was one of those larger-than-life people who fill a room with their personality when they walk through the door, and I'm going to miss him. We had one fairly uneventful day, and then my dad fell and broke his ankle. He's 81 years old and suffering from congestive heart failure, so he's been in the ICU for the past couple of days waiting to stabilize enough to undergo surgery. The surgery was this afternoon, and his doctor tells us it all went well, which is good news. They've installed a metal plate in his ankle that will stay there for the rest of his life, and he's not allowed to even attempt to walk on that foot or put any weight on it at all for at least two months, so now we begin the next-to-impossible task of keeping my very fidgety dad in bed and off his feet for the next 60 days. It's been an emotional couple of weeks, filled with ups and downs, highs, lows, and lots of tears -- the good kind and the not-so-good kind. I've divided my time between the Newborn ICU and the regular ICU in two hospitals 20 miles apart. I lost track of the days a long time ago, and I'm never sure what day of the week it is, but I suppose this, too, shall pass. Before you know it, three months will have passed, Abigail will come home and so will my dad, and life will settle down into a nice, smooth routine again. And if you believe that, I have some lovely swampland . . .