89

If you have read my blogs over the last ALMOST FOUR YEARS (how did THAT happen???), you will know that I don't write about most parts of my life. You may have noticed, too, that I don't usually write about other people in my life. I guess that I have a somewhat private nature and I also don't know who reads this blog, so out of respect for others in my life, I don't speak of them here.

And all of this cracks me up because, most likely, there are not more than two or three people who ever read this blog. A while ago, I quit looking at stats on my CarolForPeace blog, and I intentionally don't have any stats set up on this one. The reason that I don't have stats is: I don't want to edit myself based on audience or lack thereof. And I still edit... A lot.

(She's hopeless, I tell ya.)

But, I want to venture out and write a little about my recent adventures in FamilyLand. I do this out of sincere respect for my family and out of a desire to express what's in me.

Today is my dad's 89th birthday. I don't know whether or not he knows that. Ever since my dad had heart surgery four years ago (there's that "four" number again!), he has not been quite the same. Things have changed more rapidly over the past few months and even more rapidly over the past couple of weeks.

I am fine hanging out with people who have Alzheimer's or dementia. The way my brain works, I can often have a lot more fun with them than with people who live in their heads. So my dad's process is not a problem to me, in and of itself. This is what IS a problem for me: I get all wobbly about family dynamics and about "the system". A part of me wants to be a little girl and have my mom be the strong person who tells me that she can handle what's coming up. A huge part of me absolutely detests the medical/insurance/"healthcare" system and wants no part of it.

So, here I am. I'm not a little girl - no one is going to save the day - and I'm getting to support my parents in the system, knowing that, most likely, I will be more deeply entrenched in it in the near future.

I had a dream a couple of nights ago. I was at a party with a lot of people. I was having a conversation when, suddenly, a huge ocean wave broke through into the room we were in, carrying us all away. I was under water, being pulled out into the sea. I told myself not to breathe so that I wouldn't take in water. When things settled down, I was able to touch the ground beneath me and my head was above water. I gulped in air and that gulp woke me up.


Lately, I can sometimes feel like I'm being swept out to sea and I have no control over anything. Truthfully, I do question if we really ever do have any control over anything. And the illusion of control can be both kind of comforting and also very limiting.

There is so much beauty to be found in this process.

And it's not easy.