He is in the hospital.....

My father is in the hospital again...over 600 miles away.
I am very unhappy that my sister has taken Daddy so far away from everything and everyone he knows. After V J died Daddy and I talked about what he wanted if the time came that he was unable to take care of himself. It was agreed that as long as it was possible, he would stay in Coleman. If that became a problem he would come here where he still knows people. Susie now claims that he asked her to take care of him.

The first time she took Daddy to Arkansas for tests, to get him away from the quacks, she said she couldn't wait to get him out of that "little old house." She will not consider him coming to Brownfield because no one should live in this "Hell Hole".

Susie has always had her own reality and I learned as a child that to confront her was to get hurt. As she got older she learned that she could stop me with a carefully chosen comment. She knew my weakness. I was never good enough, thin enough, had a nice enough house,...I can remember her coming to visit me in my home once, in our entire adult lives, and she re-cleaned to shower.
Right now I have to over come my cowardice and try to get the money together to go see my father .



He is beginning to remember.....

It has taken me several weeks to process and digest this information; something I had dreaded for 13 years. When I had children my main goal was to protect them and keep them safe. I failed.
One morning I walked into the kitchen. It was evident that my son, who was 19 at the time, had stayed up all night and that he had gotten into the liquor. Not being a serious drinker, I didn't have much. There were 2 bottles of beer , a little amaretto, a couple of ounces of vodka, various drip and drops.... I was irritated that he would do something like that and went into the living room where he was asleep on the couch. It was then that I saw the 4/10 shotgun.
I let him sleep.
After I had let him rest and I had time to compose myself I sat and watched this man/child sleep. When he awoke my first words were, "You need to talk to me".
After several protestations with my assuring him that there wasn't anything he couldn't talk to me about, he started crying. He finally said that he was starting to remember things. I managed to stand up and walk over to the couch. I cried and he cried. He talked, I listened. I hugged him and told him how much I loved him.
When I was able to speak I said, "Do you know what a miracle you are?" I told him about the people who had worked so hard to protect him and keep him safe. He talked about the time he was in CPS care to keep Dan and his father from taking him. He remembers bits and pieces of the abuse......for now.
and so I ask the question, again, that no one can answer: Why would anyone abuse a child?

Roller Coaster Ride.....

The thing about roller coasters rides is that you know at some point the crazy highs and stomach dropping dips will stop and you will be able to get off. Real life......not so easy.
I am riding and can't get off.
My father is in the hospital. He is improving but at 90+ years I have to recognize that there will an end. I'm not ready...
I have been fortunate in the last 20 years or so to be able get to know my father as a person. We have traveled along the Texas Forts Trail, visited museums and sought out old cemetery's looking for ancestors. I learned where he was born (about 15 miles from the town of record) and where he had his first teaching job. I have walked the campus of the college he attended and know that he mowed the grass and waited tables to make money.
In turn he convinced me that I could start college at 54, attended concerts, saw my artwork hanging in a show and watched the Music Man because I did the sets. He had faith in me. He saw in me what I couldn't see in myself.
Last summer my sister decided that Daddy needed to go home with her "to have some tests run". He was having problems drinking enough water which, among other things, caused episodes of dementia. Now instead of being 3 hours away he is 13. To add to the problem gas prices have doubled. I know my sister is stressed about taking care of him but refuses to allow him to come here which she refers to as a "Hell Hole". If he were here there would be a larger family unit to help care for him...
I am hoping to have the money to go see him this summer.