One Day at a Time...
Yesterday was hard. As most of my days this past week, I woke up with the thought "my dad was here last week..." I thought about everything we had been through the past week and then I thought about the day specifically. At 7am Dad left me a rambling voicemail - he wasn't quite sure where he was. At 7:30 am, I called him back. I could hear the nurse in the background, reassuring him that I would be there in a little while. Around 9am, I was on my way to the hospital, stopping to pick up some McDonald's - an extra sausage biscuit in my bag in case he wanted one (he was never a fan of hospital food). When I got to the hospital Charlie (my Mom, Debbie's husband) was there. My Dad was in and out of sleep, only holding somewhat coherant concepts of conversations every so often. He was fully awake when I got there. He was happy to see me, wanted a swig of my coke but he didn't want the sausage biscuit. I tucked that away for later....
