it’s so hard for me to concentrate on the coolness of this idea because i can’t quit STARING at that, weird scraggly, squatty thumb! wtf? where was the stylist?
Back to the post, this makes me wish i wore thumb rings. the possibilities are endless and endlessly funny at someone else’s expense.
Ok, really back to the post now. My sister can be brutally honest. Thanks for sisters, right? She informed me the other day that I really needed to keep up the blog. “It’s so boring. I keep visiting. There’s nothing new, there,” she explained. “I go everyday and I am tired of reading about popcorn,” she continued. From several emails, I conclude that her synopsis is mutual within the readers of the blog.
Thank you friends and family. Ut. Hum. I said that with sarcasm.
The truth is upon my return from our vacation, I found my father in the worst condition of his life. He took a fall while walking MY dog that sent his body and mind into a life altering tailspin. The disease he lives with saw the event as an opportunity to sprint forward in a conquest of his life and his brain. I found him in the only in a puny, urine smelling, hell of a hole nursing home. It is the only one in the area with a rehab center.
Upon the plane landing, I raced to his side only to find him ignorant of my being and confused by my excitement to see him. I told him, “I love you, I love you, I love you” when I first set eyes on him. I hugged and kissed him and bounced around the room. “I don’t understand why you keep saying that,” he professed. Amazingly, I held my emotions in containment that evening. Since then, I find my days filled with a new obsession that includes visits to his room, researching dementia on the internet, reading books on the subject and visits to the darkest, most emotional part of my soul that I know.
I love to blog, yet each evening it has been the last thing I can think of. I have even written several posts. Then, deleted them. It has been difficult to find the upbeat, happy self and style of my blog. And, expressing all that we have been going through is simply too personal and too revealing to broadcast. It deserves intamacy that I can not describe with the tokens of my keyboard.
Several weeks have passed since “that” evening. I am feeling more comfortable with the situation and slowly regaining myself and my spririt. Considering the blog long and hard, I have decided to maintain it as an outlet, as a release, and as fun. I love it. I miss it. And, I give you a secret hand shake. I promise, I do solemnly swear I will return to the blogosphere next Monday with pictures I love, finds I can barely live without, and tidbits that are just-so-me.
I appreciate all of my friends and family so much. Time escapes me these days as I often regret not telling people how much I appreciate their phone calls, emails, visits, food, words, thoughts, and prayers. Often I do not even have an opportunity to respond. I am ashamed of my rudeness because I DO, DO, DO appreciate them all. And, with the same tri-emphasis – they DO touch me.
Here’s my secret hand shake. I promise to recessitate Moon Dreams and Day Beams, to give it breath and life. And, I promise not to stamp you!
found here* via Beach Bungalow 8