Unbelievable. I had Pete change my travel itinerary. I was to head home this Friday, now my return date is up in the air. Why did I do this? Because I don’t want El to deal with my mother’s death alone. Today, on the car drive to Pacifica, she was in tears again. I can’t let her deal alone.
I don’t know if I’m any help at all. In the daytime she takes care of things and pushes me aside. So I spend a lot of time reading my email and reading books. At nights, those times when I do the solo night shifts, I feel like I am helping out. But even then, I’m not doing much.
Uncle Bob will be leaving tomorrow, early in the morning. Good riddance I say. There are no good feelings between us. Tonight, finally, nearly after the fact, I figured out how to deal. It’s simple. I just keep plying him with innocuous questions, like how many meals a day does your house-keeper make you? Do your three girlfriends know about one another? And how deep is your swimming pool? I have yet to ask him how girlfriend #4, his main squeeze is doing because this would be more antagonistic than innocuous. If I drink enough beer (and I probably won’t), I might do this. I also want to ask if at 97 he is still getting it on. And oh yeah, does he, like Donald Trunk, have black hookers come to his house.
El can take on more contentious subjects with him because she is family. Yesterday she got into it with him about social security, and it is not, as he thinks, a form of entitlement. I had to admire the way she handled the situation. And because Uncle Bob respects her, he actually listened to her. He does not listen to me.
He’s 97, and in his own words “old and opinionated.” At least he knows himself well. He’s actually had enough time to figure this out. When he dies I will feel no elation or remorse. I wonder what it’s like to be that age and realize you have 2, 3, 4 years left. That isn’t much time. And time goes by faster when one is older. I wonder if he ever gets fearful. If I knew him well, I’d ask him these questions too.
My changing my travel plans was difficult to do, but necessary. Today mother was better than yesterday. Sylvia and a physical therapist actually got her into a wheelchair. These days mother has the build of a walrus, round in the middle and thinner arms and legs. She also has a large, bulbous nose.
Once in the chair, she sat there, looking out the window at a large tree with pink blossoms. She appeared to be surprised to be vertical and surprised to be out of bed. I was impressed that she did so well because her left arm still hurts her.
Pete is working on revised travel arrangements.
And Uncle Bob is that much closer to being out of the picture.
Once he departs, which will be early in the morning – I am going to jump into the unoccupied bed.
Pete was okay with the change in plans. This made me miss him even more. I do not know how it’s going to go. Right now, Mother is again on the upswing.
Today was a better day than yesterday. And tomorrow will be a better day than today.