Bigger Than the Sky

Wow, I cannot believe that it has been 2 years since I have written anything. But what a roller coaster the last 2 years have been.

I have decided to start a spin off edition of Handed a Lemon or Picked a Lemon. This one will be Bigger Than the Sky. I will be, or rather hope to, document my journey back to finding myself after 3 long years filled with loss and sadness.

Oh boy life did not just hand me lemon on this one. it yanked the whole lemon tree from the ground, roots and all, and hit me over the head with the tree.

I will preface this by saying I am a hot mess. My nerve endings are frayed, my filter is gone, my emotions are all over the place.

If you like roller coasters, or just like seeing a derailed train get back on track, hold on and join this journey with me.

My main objective in sharing this ugly process is that I hope I can help someone else that is trying to find them selves, or heal, to know they are not alone. Also, Evan and I talked about how his story would not end at the grave. So in whatever fashion you find this helpful, maybe for yourself or in dealing with someone in my position, so be it.

There are some other lifestyle bloggers/coaches out there that I question if they had been in my shoes would still be standing right now. Honestly, reading their work makes me feel terrible about myself. I want to give hope that you can make it through the very ugly parts of life, with the help of Jesus, Faith, friends and family.

To begin, I'd like to share a timeline of what has led me to be a crumbled mess on the floor. I feel this will help to understand the magnitude of brokenness and pieces I am trying to put back together.

August 2016- after a year of doctor visits and pleading that something was wrong, my dad was diagnosed with Alzheimers.

August 2016-March 2017 while working full-time I started handling my parents financial affairs, legal affairs, grocery shopping, doctor visits, cleaning, etc. And I live an hour away.

March 2017- my dad is diagnosed with Esophageal Cancer. (and I consider jumping off a bridge).

June 2017- I have to put my dog of 15years down. He was my rock that brought me comfort from dealing with the stress of my dad.

August 2, 2017- My world was turned upside down when I got a call that my son, that was in prison, would be having open heart valve replacement surgery the next day. They would not tell us what hospital he was in or let us see him. No one called to even let us know he made it through surgery. It was 23 days before we received a letter from Evan letting us know he made it through.

August 2017- my dad went into a nursing home short term and his personality had changed to being very angry and hostile during the weeks I waited to hear about Evan.

August-November 2017 Dad was put on hospice at home and the amount of care needed tripled. I'm still doing this while working full-time with a hour drive each way.

November 4, 2017- My dad passes away

1 week later- we got a call that Evan is back in the hospital and MRSA has already attacked and damage the new heart valve. This is critical and he may not make it.

January 2018- a doctor from Vanderbilt hospital calls and let have agreed to let us have the a visit with Evan. This is the first time we have seen him in almost 2 years. One visit. 4 hours. The doctor said he only had 6 months left to live at this point.

January-July 2018 Evan is in and out of the hospital many many times. Our only source of information was when he was returned to the prison hospital in between and could tell us what was going on. We still could not see him.

July 2018- The Chaplain calls and said he believes that Evan only has about 3 days to live. I got this call while I was at a doctor appointment for myself where I was told they thought I had a collapsed lung and/or blood clot in my lungs and was rushed to the hospital. It ended up being fine. We were granted 7 visits with Evan at the public hospital in Nashville where he was. On that 7th visit when we left, it was brutal walking out of that room not knowing if we would ever see him again or not.

October 2018- Evan is still fighting with everything he has. We were given unlimited daily visits with him at the prison hospital in Nashville.

October 2018-March 2019  At least twice a week I made the trip to Nashville after work (3 hours each way and a time zone difference) to visit with him.

November 2018- Doctor said he did not see anyway that he would still be alive for Christmas.

Christmas 2018 Evan is still fighting and we got to spend Christmas together for the first time in years.

March 2019 Evan was finally granted a medical furlough and was released to a nursing home on hospice in Dayton TN.

March-April 22, 2019 Every other day after work I drove the 2 hours each way to be with him. This was such a gift to get to hug, see him, call him, and laugh with him any time that I wanted to.

April 23, 2019 Jesus brought Evan home and healed him for eternity.

This brings me to the point where I am now, exhausted, heartbroken and numb.

On this journey, I plan to be honest with my feelings. Some are valid and some are irrational, I know this. My journey is personal. Any comments/feelings/anger are not and will not be about anyone that I know would be reading this. So please do not think that anything I share might be a passive aggressive jab at anyone that has been around.


Evan and I always had this love banter that started when he was small that went like this.

I love you bigger than the sky
And more than chocolate pie
Bigger than the ocean
And more than a secret potion
More than a ice cream sundae
On a very hot Monday
(then his daughter added)
More than queso
And I don't care to say so.

Over the years it was just shortened to us saying Bigger than the Sky instead of I Love You.

I hope to make it to the other side of my grief and live a life that is Bigger Than the Sky.

If you decide to join me- thank you. Please share on your social media if you feel someone else might benefit from reading too.

Tammy

Life Lessons with Frank

When you have a diagnosis of Alzheimer's and then couple that with the brutal news of esophageal cancer you feel like a definite expiration has been set.  I can not really use the word sentimental, but it has definitely had me replaying some old tapes of my youth in my head searching for something positive to hold on to. 

I don't have the fond memories of being daddy's little girl. He had 4 girls, so it was hard for any of us to feel that. There are no learning to ride a bike memories or daddy protecting me from my first heart break of a boy. If anything it was probably the other way around. 

There were no Christmas' with dad dressed as Santa, even though he did dress up as Smoky the Bear in the Townsend parade once. No Sundays where I was told that church was where I was going whether I liked it or not. 


But I did come across things that I have learned from my dad, or because of my dad. Strange as some may be, these are the memories that will be stored in the hope chest of my heart. 


So these are what I will refer to as Life Lessons with Frank- 

• Rinse your dishes with cold water- kills the bubbles faster

• At about 10 years old I learned all girls need to practice their typing skills and work on their WPM. Apparently the official sentence to practice is  "Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country". As I type this I realize my skills haven't improved much in 35 years. 

• I learned to write a basic DOS computer program. But I didn't stick with it because I thought computers were just going to be a fad and go away soon

• I learned to play "Born to Lose" on the organ because he loved that song

• I've learned that it is possible to change the password on your bank account 10 times in one day

• That receiving an email from a 79 year old man with 'LOL" in it will make your left arm go numb- side note....above mentioned email was on Fathers Day as I sat on the couch in his house and he was in his bedroom. Email, at the time, was his preferred method of communication. 

• You can buy table cloths that are infused with bug spray and night time driving glasses...in bulk

• Apparently you can decide to call yourself a Sr. even if you don't have any sons

• You can have 17 different email accounts and the Internet will still not shut you down

• When a doctor ask him to name 4 words that begin with F (I held my breath because at this point you just don't know what to expect), one of his top 4 is Fantabulous. I thought only 14 year old girls used that word

• You can have a picture of your dogs put on about anything

• You never seeing anyone using a Stylus because all of them, and I mean all 1,256,938 of them are in his bedroom

• Someone really can have too many batteries

• Peanut butter, Mayonnaise and cheese sandwiches are his fav

• I know how to eat shrimp and get every morsel from the shell

• He can still give you the zip code for any street address in Knoxville from memory

• If someone ask if you would like to see a picture of their Pride & Joy,  its going to be a picture of dish washing soap

• I know what it means if someone's obituary says they were a friend of Bill Wilson's for so many years

• Unfortunately I know what www.wm&*.com is all about. You don't want to know the correct website. Trust me- there are things you can't unsee

• I know that after seeing a 79 year old naked you don't sleep very well for awhile

• I know that it's possible to be on a first name basis with your UPS man and have his personal cellphone number for your convenience

• Amazon will never ever cut you off- even if you ask them to

• I know that a grown man, 4 teenage boys, a cowboy hat and a go-cart will fit in a Toyota Corrola hatchback car

• I know what a Wampus cat is now

• I know that when he says "Tam I sure do love you", I forget about all the bad stuff 

Joel Osteen always says that you have to choose what movies or shows of your past to replay in your head. If you finally make it to the end of that scary movie or Sci-fi that you thought would never end- leave it there. Don't let it cloud the movie screen of your mind today. 

Deuteronomy 5:16 NIV
"Honor your father and mother, as the Lord your God commanded you, that your days may be long, and thatit may go well with you in the land that the Lord your God is giving you"


I heard the comedian Jerry Clower tell a story and refer to the above Bible verse. He points out that the verse does not say that we are to only honor our parents if we feel they have earned it. They earned it when they gave us life.....period.

I am trying really hard to do that and condition myself to change the channel when those old sad reruns come back on. 

Especially since there is only so much time left before before the screen fads to black. 

Until next time- safe picking. Tammy

Be Frank With Me- How to Avoid Being Punched In the Face

There are heroes who walk among us everyday. Teachers, nurses, military men and women and my newly discovered hero, The Caregiver. More specifically what I will call the front line caregiver.

Since becoming a front line caregiver myself, and I am far from earning my badge of honor, I have learned a lot. Alzheimer's leaves many casualties in it's wake as it crushes and destroys. One of the many frustrations that I face is what I call the side-line caregiver or SLC.

Two years into being a front line caregiver or FLC, I find that my patience is wearing even thinner with these SLC than with my dad who I will refer to as ALZ.

These SLC are the ones who try to tell you that they understand what you are going through because they remember when their granddad had dementia and put way too much salt on his potatoes because he confused it for pepper. Or when they were so embarrassed when he showed up at Christmas wearing 2 different socks. (I pause here to bring my blood pressure back down).

The difference in being 1st in command on a daily basis and watching from the sidelines is miles apart.
So when you try to claim that you understand my struggle because you saw Mamaw wearing her shirt backwards. In my head I am fantasizing about punching you in the face.

And while you may think you understand, like I once did from watching the end of my mother-in-laws life be stolen from her with this disease, I know now that I was truly clueless.

I'm sure these SLC, and especially the people who have never dealt with it, think the are being helpful by suggesting that I simply take his checkbook away. Just know when you are saying these things to me I am dreaming about the closest set of stairs to push you down. Because yes, it has occurred to me a year ago to take the money away. But, 3 different banks later and dealing with an ALZ that still remember numbers (account numbers, phone numbers, routing numbers) this is an impossible task. I have tried every avenue possible and you insulting me by assuming that in my all consuming battle that I have not tried this first step, may earn you a black eye.

Some of the things that I have found that a FLC does and/or experiences that a SLC does not are:

• If you lie awake most nights trying to plan, prepare, research or just plain worrying (as I write this at 3am because it's the only time I've had in the last week
• If you spend a time every night going through your ALZ social media pages to delete the inappropriate post, comments or photos. Or sending apologies to people for these things. 
• Spend hours boxing up items ordered by mistake or multiples orders only to get home and receive an email that your ALZ has just ordered them again
• Scouring through their email every day to make your list of things to do, fix, undo, correct or send an apology, etc
• If you have reset a password more than 7 times in one day....for the same account, to keep the ALZ out
• If you have sat at your desk crying at 7am while you order adult diapers
• If you have made every chart, graph, reminder, task list, calendar, to-do list imaginable hoping it will make the ALZ day easier
• Having to choose between eating lunch or spending that time calling doctor offices
• You have to choose between going to the restroom or calling some place that is only open during the day because you have been away from your desk too long at work that day. You prioritize day time calls and evening calls
• If you have had to see your ALZ naked and struggle to get them to keep their hospital gown pulled down...then try to sleep after that one. 
• If you have lost weeks of your life due to their obsession with a sliced ham
• If you check the bill calendar and their checking account everyday to make certain they haven't decided to buy 3 bamboo pillows and 7 camping lanterns and thrown your budget out the window 
• You have research medications to the point you are pretty certain CVS could call you when they are short staffed because these doctors never pay attention the the other medications the ALZ are on
• If you have to make certain every day that they have eaten something and at least several times a week are bathing
• Your medication list for your ALZ is a color coded spreadsheet with pictures of each medication/pill just to help you keep them straight and not accidentally kill them by giving the wrong pill 
• The white lies you tell to distract them have become so complicated that you begin to question if you're the reason they stay so confused
• Crying from frustration and sadness is an everyday occurrence
• You want to protect them so much from someone taking advantage of them that you have a hard time letting anyone else help
• You have spent 11 days trying to pay the cable bill (this is a very long story)

It feels like you are driving a car with no steering wheel. You want to control and manage things but everything is completely out of your control. Bottom line- it's hard. Really hard. In addition to the physical and mental strain of the extra work, you have the emotional toll it takes on your heart that you are watching someone you love just fade away. 

I remember the first time it really hit me what was happening. The 2015 college National Championship was coming on. And for about 5 years my dad and I loved to talk football and call back and forth during any big game. But when I called that night so excited for my pre-game chat he did not even realize that any football game was on, especially a National Championship. My heart broke because I knew this was the beginning of the end. 

I understand the sadness for any person who's life has been touched by Alzheimer's. But I ask you, for your own personal safety, to understand that watching it from afar and being the CEO of Operation Alzheimers are two very different things.

To date, as of 4/15 at 3:17am I have not slammed anyone's head in a door, or stabbed anyone in the ear with a screwdriver. So I count that as a success.

If you are the front line caregiver for someone and need a listening ear I would be glad to help. I'm willing to share any of what I have learned and/or tips as well. Hey even in my last consultation with the national Alzheimers Association, they said I offered them some ideas that no one had before.

So what is the appropriate response to a front line caregiver and avoid bodily injury? I'm so sorry, this has to stink so bad. I will bring you chocolate or chips & salsa anytime you need it. That is all we need.

Until Next Time~ Safe Picking
Tammy

God Behind Bars

I have been ask to share this story several times lately so I thought I would share it with you. 

Several years ago my husband and I started to visit new churches to see if we found something that we were a better fit in. About the 3rd one we tried was Faith Promise. This is my story, God's story about my experience. 

At the time the North Knox Faith Promise was in a temporary location at the Expo Building.  It's just a few minutes from our home so let's try. I knew this was one of those new, hip churches so I tried to prepare myself for something very different than where I had been for many years.

We show up in the normal attire that was appropriate for our prior church, suit and tie for hubby, and dress and heels for me. I notice right off the bat that we are way, way over dressed. Jeans, tennis shoes, T-shirts, even shorts we more the norm than what we were wearing. Ok, I'm modern. I can do this. 

Then the music starts. Or rather the rock concert that I felt like I was in. I love my heavy metal, rock music just like any other Southerner, but this is church. But anyway, we're just visiting here. We don't have to ever come back again. 

Then the movie starts. Wait are we on a date night instead of attending Sunday morning service. So I sit with my judgmental arms crossed to watch the featured film.

It's about a prisoner being released after a long sentence and trying to get acclimated back into society. My arms fall. I realize I am holding my breath at this point, and staring at the ceiling fighting of tears. See, my son Evan is serving a very long sentence in prison

I take deep breath as it clip ends and the pastor comes on the screen. Wait, you mean the pastor isn't even here? He's being piped in from some other planet or something, what is it? Then Pastor Chris begins to tell his story of addiction. His story of struggle. His story of redemption. HIS story. 

I'm really struggling to breath now. In my head I am saying "we are only visiting. God doesn't speak to you on the first visit". Oh yes He can, and He does! The more I listen to Pastor Chris, I see for the first time the person, that really deep down, I never believed that my son could become.  Until today. I've heard of 180 stories from addicted to drugs to addicted to Jesus. But I have never really known someone.

I left there with my heart so twisted. This was amazing!  The music, the jeans, the acceptance of all, this is where Evan needs to be. All I could think about was telling him the next time he called about this real life success story. After waiting a few weeks for him to call, I was so excited to tell him about this place that would accept him as he is when he comes home. 

So we never left Faith Promise. It almost felt like preparing a place, a home, for your child. Some time later we learned about Faith Promise's God Behind Bars ministry. What a fantastic ministry to the prisoners. But this was not at his location, but how cool. 

Fast forward a year or so. After some complications and for some security reasons, my son was moved to a different prison. On the first visit at the new location, my husband, my son and I are sitting there in this cafeteria type room. I notice at the front of the room there is a giant FP. My heart stops. I literally stop breathing, again. 

The valleys, stress, heartbreak and turmoil that led up to this move were necessary for God's plan to come together. He is now at the same location where our God Behind Bars ministry is! Praise Jesus!!

You know that moment when it seems like you can physically see God's hand on your shoulder. That was one for me. He was just as excited that he would be able to experience what I had been telling him about for so long. Now each week, I take comfort in knowing he is sharing the same Worship service that I am. God is beginning to mold his heart years before I thought possible all because this blue jean wearin', movie playing, rock-n-roll church loves everybody and so does God!

God Is Good, all the time. Even when we don't understand His plan. 

Until Next time- Safe Picking

Tammy

When Happiness Sneaks Up On You

Dr. Phil has been known to ask his guest if they have ever watched him before, when trying to prepare them for the bluntness that is about to come. If you have been reading my blog for a while you probably realize that I am very honest here and honest about myself and my shortcomings. Today will be no different.

Happiness. For several months now this is something I have been working on. I admit, I have a long way to go on this one still. Not a long way to being happy, but a long way to accepting the happiness and not denying it.

Some of you know my situation and the things I deal with on a daily basis. I am trying to get to a point where fewer and fewer know of this struggle.

About  a year ago I found myself becoming that person who is constantly unloading on whoever was in my presence, whether by choice or circumstance, about what my troubles were. I was consumed by my trials and tribulations so I just knew the entire world was stopping for my problems. Why wouldn't they?

But on many occasions I found find myself laughing out loud (really, not the LOL kind where you say you are but look like a sour puss while typing it) to a comedian on my comedy channel. Or I might slip up and be doing some chair dancing with my tunes on at work.

But then, what I would assume is my sub-conscience, would stop me in my tracks. I could almost hear an audible voice asking how I could be so happy given my situation. I will not go into detail, but 'my situation' is about 3 things I deal with that any single one would bring most folks to their knees.

Back to the voice....it was like a reminder that I had to remain down trodden and absolutely no smiling! Heaven for bid should I smile and someone would think that everything was ok and that I'm not super stress juggler. The dark cloud that I chose to put on everyday was a reminder to people that I had more on my plate than I deserved.

I think part of me also felt like if I gave some insight to my struggle, when/if the day ever came that I was found sobbing on all fours in the parking lot while pulling my hair out I wouldn't have to pause for passersby and explain why I was having a meltdown.

If I let you know my story in advance and you find me face down in the bathroom with my clothes on inside out wearing 2 different shoes there would be an unspoken understanding and you could just step over me and go on.

There is a type of person who just wreaks of despair and sadness. Most people would rather start a conversation with a cockroach crawling on the wall than strike up a conversation with Debbie Downer or Always Mad Mary.

But several months ago I had one of those AH HA moments Oprah talks about and thought "Tam (that's what I call myself), Tam, your outcome will be the same whether you enjoy those moments of happiness or not."

I also remember 2 years ago I was told part of the reason that I was selected for the position I am in now is because I always have a smiling face to anyone I pass in the hallway.

So, if I could brighten someone else's day by simply smiling, and not smiling was not going to solve my problems, why not enjoy these times? Why not do my 1 person line dance in my chair?

So I listen to music, A LOT! It is my cheap therapy. It distracts my mind, transports me to different places and times and makes me happy.

So one goal for 2017 is to stop and cherish those moments when I feel good. Frolic around on the days that I can see the rainbow through the smog and realize life IS pretty darn good and my blessings out number my challenges.

I am still standing. God has held up His end of the bargain to take care of me (maybe not on my terms, but that's another post). I have lived to fight another day. I can honor my end by giving Him the glory and His light sine through me.

So hold your head high and your complaints under your tongue. In the end everyone has stuff and really do not care about yours. And remember, a smile may not change your junk but it just might make someone else forget about theirs for a few moments!

Until next time- Safe Picking!
Tammy aka Tam

Oh, in case you yourself would like to do some chair dancing check out these videos available through Amazon.

https://www.amazon.com/Stoloves-Chair-Dancing-Through-Decades/dp/B00062IWNY/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1484126950&sr=8-2&keywords=Chair+dancing

Blind is beautiful!

After a very stressful month at work and a dad who has Alzheimer's, I decided to take 2 days off to hopefully recharge my batteries.

For one of the days I scheduled an extended massage. These are my guilty pleasures in life. I don't get them often, but love when I can indulge for an hour at the hands of someone who's job it is to make me feel good.

So my appointment is booked with Mike. I've had a male masseuse before, so no biggie. Usually. But part of my last month's stresses included having a very ugly month. I mean the kind where I feel so ugly that I'm going to make babies cry if I go in public.

So my male masseuse anxiety starts to set in. I'm convinced that while I'm lying there with my eyes closed that Fabio and his magic hands will be looking at every inch of my body trying to keep his egg white tofu omelet down from breakfast.

In anticipation of the “how perfect is your body” test I'm about to take in the name of relaxation, I prepare. I spend extra time applying the “ I'm not wearing any make-up” make-up.

I add bronzer all across my chest since I can't make it to the Caribbean for a true sun kissed look.

I spend far too much time analyzing my underwear. It's a fine line between not looking like a granny and wearing sexy underwear 20 years and 30lbs past when you shouldn't.

I arrive at my spa and I am lead back to the room. Now comes the time for my man goddess to enter. And he does.

HE.  IS.  BLIND…… (I'll leave that there for a moment to soak in)

Blind like with a guidance cane blind. I don't even know what to think. I just laugh hysterically… on the inside.

Sometimes God shows us things in a very subtle way. And sometimes it is laid before us in a way that we would trip over it before missing it.

All of that time and wasted brain cells that I spent worrying, fretting about my imperfections, my freckles, my pale skin and crows feet.

Not only was Mike totally oblivious to my insecurities, and unable to see the things that were such a big deal to me an hour before, he asked if he could add my dad to his prayer list.

He told me about how, after he and his wife were unable to have children, they started fostering children. You could hear the pride in his voice. You could feel the satisfaction he had in his life.

And I, with my great health, sight, all of my limbs, and my own child, thought the only the thing that someone else cared about was my appearance.

It made me wonder, why is it that Mike is the one who is blind but I'm the one who can't see so many things?

I did leave there thanking God for so many of my imperfections and unfairness that had been given to me.

Truly, Mike makes his living by touch. His family sacrifices by driving him an hour to and from work, since he can't.

I would recommend him to anyone looking for a good massage. I believe he said he works almost everyday. Any business helps his family and for his wife to stay home with their foster children.

There are blessings all around us. We just need to pray for the vision to see them, even if they come from the blind.

Until next time~ safe picking

Tammy

The Next Phase

Baby, toddler, child, teenager, adult, wife, parent, parent to your parents. This is how the phases of most peoples lives go. We grow up, we get older, we get old, then we die. So, this is no big mystery or surprise.

Even though I know what the next phase is, it is no less heartbreaking. All most everyone I have lost in my family has pretty much been one day they were here and the next day they were gone. The shock was like a wet smelly blanket but I have vivid, lively memories of most of them.

When my brother passed away a couple of years ago from cancer, it was the first time of watching someone I loved slipping away. Dwindling out of our reach. I honestly can say, I don't know which one is easier.

I am entering the next phase of my life where I am becoming the parent to my parents. I don't know

how else to say it but it stinks! What stinks is not the commitment of it but the fact that I feel like someone just sat a sand timer in front of me and said here's what you have left. I can see changes from month to month and week to week in behaviors, memory and health.

We have forever left with our parents, right? As I've gotten old I realized that my parents aren't as old as I thought they were. Or I used to think that. I am facing that, yes, they are that old now.

I would not say that I grew up being daddy's little girl. He had 4 girls, so none of us really stood out. I will still argue with my sister Carol that I'm his favorite though (smiling). I didn't grow up with that typically father/daughter relationship. A lot of things factored into that including an addiction. But it was my life. For all the bad times, there were good one too. I have accepted that they did the best with what they had and knew.

I realize now that it has always been in the back of my head that I had a lifetime for those heartbreaks to be mended. Someday we would get around to those park bench talks where I would hear stories from his childhood and we would bond over Sunday lunches together.

Now that the next phase is here I see that those things are not going to happen. My window has closed, or rather it has closed on the view I thought I would have of us by now.

I am accepting that we bond over different things. We compare the newest "As Seen on TV" products and what our internet download and upload speeds are. We bond over college football.

But when I called my dad a couple of months ago when the championship game was coming on to get my few minutes of pre-game chatter and he didn't even realize that there was a game one, I knew we were entering the post game show.

As much as it hurts my heart to remind him to change clothes, reset his passwords, monitor his

medicine, reset his passwords, encourage him to use his cane, reset his passwords, change his sheets, etc......I am getting time with both of them that I probably wouldn't otherwise. Yeah, for different reasons I am the primary caretaker out of all my siblings, but I am also the one getting the one on one with them. When he says "Tam I sure do love you", it's all worth it.

I have learned after all these years that I get my sense of humor from my dad. I've never seen him as a funny person before but he is. Several months back after being called back to the doctors office to discuss test results unexpectedly, I drove him there. It was a kinda quiet ride. We tried to talk but the fear that was weighing on both of us was too much. After not hearing the 'cancer' word from the doctor my dad says "Doc you scared me to death. I thought you were gonna tell me I was pregnant!"

I am making amends with the past at the same time of facing the present. I am slowing getting to ask the questions I want to ask and say the things I want to say. I know my dad has made a lot of mistakes but for me and him.....we're good.

And in seeing that my mom is having some trouble understanding all of this I know that I'm in training to take care of her too not too far from now. But I've been blessed with many years with both of my parents. I understand its rare to still have both of them and for that I am thankful.

So I will keep resetting his passwords and telling (and listening) to the same stories with my mom.

 
For these lemons that have been handed to me, I think I will make a lemon pie and share half of it with my parents.

Until next time~ Safe Picking!