My second post today. I blog therefore I am.
I spent much of today at the hospital. My mother is doing great; it's a relief to see her looking so hearty after all she's been through in the past few days. She's being moved to a rehab place tomorrow, where physical therapy will begin in earnest.
Uncle Connie is faring less well. He has failed considerably since I saw him three to four months ago, before we moved to the Adirondacks. He doesn't seem himself to me. For one thing, he says he's terribly exhausted all the time. He also seems to be withdrawing from life. My cousin says last week that his father was openly saying he wished God would let him go. This is not the Uncle Connie I've known, but is, I realize, a sign that he's entering the final phase of his life. I weep. I can't stand to lose him.
We talked with Uncle C. about his career at U.S. Army Labs in Natick, and how his portrait is hanging in the Hall of Fame there. Uncle Connie said one one thing, "I loved every minute of it." And he did. He retired at 65, the way the government insists you do, but it was a sad day for him.
I will visit him tomorrow and Thursday before I leave to go home, as I will my mom.
I did do one fun thing today. I stopped at the Wine Gallery in Brookline and took advantage of their 25% discount (in effect when you buy a lot). Costs a lot less than what I can get in the ADK.
I'm looking forward to going to my bed in Canton and relaxing with some writing and a book. I also have my itsy-bitsy tv with me, the one that runs on 3 double A batteries. Maybe Nova will be on tonight. I hope so.
I spent much of today at the hospital. My mother is doing great; it's a relief to see her looking so hearty after all she's been through in the past few days. She's being moved to a rehab place tomorrow, where physical therapy will begin in earnest.
Uncle Connie is faring less well. He has failed considerably since I saw him three to four months ago, before we moved to the Adirondacks. He doesn't seem himself to me. For one thing, he says he's terribly exhausted all the time. He also seems to be withdrawing from life. My cousin says last week that his father was openly saying he wished God would let him go. This is not the Uncle Connie I've known, but is, I realize, a sign that he's entering the final phase of his life. I weep. I can't stand to lose him.
We talked with Uncle C. about his career at U.S. Army Labs in Natick, and how his portrait is hanging in the Hall of Fame there. Uncle Connie said one one thing, "I loved every minute of it." And he did. He retired at 65, the way the government insists you do, but it was a sad day for him.
I will visit him tomorrow and Thursday before I leave to go home, as I will my mom.
I did do one fun thing today. I stopped at the Wine Gallery in Brookline and took advantage of their 25% discount (in effect when you buy a lot). Costs a lot less than what I can get in the ADK.
I'm looking forward to going to my bed in Canton and relaxing with some writing and a book. I also have my itsy-bitsy tv with me, the one that runs on 3 double A batteries. Maybe Nova will be on tonight. I hope so.
posted by Judith at 4:51 PM
2 Comments:
I am glad to hear that your Mom is recuperating and sad to hear about your uncle. Stressful time for you. Take care, Loretta
Wishing you and your family well
But, you know, there is a time to leave and it sounds like your uncle is fast approaching his
The hardest thing is to let go but if he's ready then it's kindest not to hold on too hard
I speak from bitter experience having lost both my parents, a beloved cousin and my best friend
All taken too soon but all ready to stop fighting and to depart with dignity
We cry, we miss them, we feel the loss but they have moved on and are someplace else, someplace where they chose to go when staying just wasn't an option
I carry all of my loved ones in my heart, I miss them constantly, tears still come without warning, I often forget they're gone and think I'll call them
But the grieving is for MY loss
They are where they should be...
Post a Comment
<< Home