Slumber Party

 When I was younger, my best friend Marisa and I would drive my Grandpa nuts.  My Dad lived with him for a while when his health was failing to assist in taking care of him and he would let me and Marisa have sleepovers at the house.  It was idyllic - we had 13 acres to run around on, tractor rides, we were allowed to drive my Dad's tractor, car, my go-kart, motor scooter up and down the country road (he lived out in the "boonies"), occasionally ride my pony, and generally just get into various adventures.  The number one thing that would drive my Grandpa nuts, though, was when Marisa and I would set up a tent in the living room.  From our point of view it was awesome.  We would get to hang out in the tent, filled with pillows, blankets, and snacks. We would rent a movie, staying up as late as we could stand, giggling through the night.  

My Dad loves to remind me and Marisa how much we used to drive Grandpa nuts.  He gets a big smile on his face whenever he tells the story.  Marisa and I recently had another slumber party at my Dad's house (which was built just up the hill from my Grandpa's house - in fact, you can look down the hill at my Grandpa's old house), in my childhood bed and we stayed up giggling until 2am. 

Tonight, I'm not sleeping in that childhood bed. I'm going to attempt to fall asleep (Good luck with that one, Jess.) next to my Dad, in what is probably the most uncomfortable recliner ever known to man that doesn't even recline. I honestly don't care, though, because my Dad asked me to stay tonight, and that's what I am doing.  He wants me here, so I will be here.  He's my Dad.  

We have been spending time watching old movies and enjoying each others' company.  He's not very talkative, but that's okay.   He doesn't need to be. I can just hang out with him. I can enjoy his company.  He has been taking naps on and off and this afternoon he told me that he thought it was going to be a "rough night" and asked me to stay.  Personally, I would prefer to go home (his house is still home to me), take a sleeping pill and fall asleep, ignoring the fact that a hurricane is heading for our neck of the woods in Florida and he's in the hospital.  A little bit of being uncomfortable, though, I think is a price well paid for getting to spend time with my Dad.  This was something that I couldn't do with my Mom.  I watched my Mom decline steadily for 4 years.  I have a lot of guilt about not being with her at the end.  I really hope this isn't the end of my Dad's story, but if it is... I'm here.  Do I want to see him pass? No. But I may not have that choice.  Time will tell. 

Let's hope for a peaceful night or maybe a night filled with giggles and movies.