It Has Been Interesting

These past two weeks have been interesting...very tiring, but still interesting. I think that one day I will look back on this experience and smile. At least I hope so. However, I have to admit that many times throughout these past few days I have felt tears close to the surface and a feeling of just wanting to lay down and collapse. I never dreamed that a trip to Oregon would be this draining - physically and emotionally. Unfortunately this experience is not over. It is just in a different geographical location.

I want to record some of my feelings and thoughts that I have had running through my head while on this trip, so please forgive me as I indulge myself a a bit and record them on my blog. After all, this is my journal.

When I arrived in Portland Kirk was waiting for me at the baggage claim terminal. He had left dad asleep in the car in the parking garage. I was so startled by what I saw when I finally laid eyes on my father. He was slumped over in his seat sleeping soundly and had no idea what was going on around him. When he woke up it really did not seem like him. Something significant had changed. He was just a shadow of the man I had seen just mere weeks before. It broke my heart.

Funny how our bodies hold our spirits captive. Now when I look at my dad I see him in some kind of physical prison - trapped in a body that won't allow him to do what he wants to do. His hands are too shaky to produce art, his feet shuffle when he walks and his parts of his memory are slowly fading. I think to myself "where is the man I remember?" It sometimes takes a lot of digging, but glimpses of him are still there.

My dad is so unsteady on his feet that he never went upstairs in his apartment the entire time that I was there. He just can't manage the stairs. At night he slept in his recliner. He wanted to sleep there because it took pressure off his shoulder where he had fallen. I was too scared to leave him alone, so I slept beside him on his couch. I was worried that he would fall in the middle of the night and I would not hear him. Because of his prostate cancer, he has to get up numerous times throughout the night to go to the bathroom. He was in such bad shape that he could not even stand up from his chair without some kind of help. I was up three to four times each night just to help him stand up. Sad.

In addition, he could not put on his shirt, socks and shoes each day. The expression "Labor of Love" took on an entirely new meaning to me. Each time that I would put his socks on, I thought of my Savior and how he had served people throughout his entire life. What a priviledge to be able to serve my dad in some kind of small way...even if it is just putting on his socks. We really do love the people we serve. When I was helping him I often had the thought run through my mind that someday when he has past away I will remember performing this small act of service for him and be grateful that I did it. It will be a wonderful memory.

Our trip to Utah was long and tiring. Especially when you throw in two cats. Dad loves his cats and the thought of being without them for months was too much for him to consider. So...I packed up the cats. That made the drive even longer, but it was for a good cause. They make him happy and that is what is important.

Since arriving home I have felt so tired that I can't even find words to adequately describe my fatigue. The first night home was the worst. I had not had a complete night's sleep for many days and it all was finally beginning to hit me. My dad has been staying at Mark's home (a block away) because I have too many stairs. Max and Sam are staying at my home because Mark's house has too many dogs. In the days, I go get my dad and he comes over to stay with me(and his cats) while Mark is gone. The first night home I took dad over to Mark's to go to bed. I then came home and tried to get the cats to settle down. Max kept wanting to sleep in my bed, which is a big NO. Greg hates cats in bed and so do I. I finally closed my bedroom door behind me so that Greg could get some sleep and went downstairs and laid on the couch with Max and Sam. And that is where I spent the rest of the night. That is when I finally had my mini breakdown. It felt good to finally be able to cry and just let it all out. I was beat and just needed a moment to release. Funny how crying seems to have enabled me to keep pushing forward and move on.

I don't know what lays in front of me concerning my dad. He may be here for a few weeks or maybe forever. At any rate, I do know that he has changed. I guess we all will at some point. He is different in so many ways, yet he is also the same. I love his deep laugh when he tells a good story (which he did many times throughout our trip to Utah), I love talking about art with him. Many times on our trip I would point things out to him and ask him what techniques he would use to paint it. Such knowledge and talent. I love hearing stories from his childhood and learning things about him that I never knew. It still amazes me that I have known him for 45 year and still there are things I have not heard before. I love that he trusts me. He has told me things and allowed me to do things for him that I know he would not allow others to do.

Yes, it has been a very long, interesting couple of weeks. I am not sure what is in front of me, but thankfully I only have to find out one day at a time.