Love

Family and friends are everything.  Without them, we'd live in a land of wonder and worry.  A day of just Dad, my Mom and me -- is full of whining and pain, anger and submission.  Then a few hours with friends or family turns this baby fifty-nine year-old into an adult with just a minor ailment again.  (But the ailment is acceptable, and there.)  Not only is the presence of close family or a dear friend a comfort and relation for my father -- but a true release for my Mom and me.  The eggshells disappear, a calmness is created, and for a moment all is normal again.  In short -- company brings out the best in my Dad, it's the best therapy he can have.  I'm almost tempted to invite Hilda (CNS case manager) and Robin (CNS counselor) over for dinner one night when Dad is in his element amongst friends.  They'd never believe this was the same human being they insist needs to be admitted into a psychiatric facility for observation.  No no. True to life is the best therapy.  This evening, my Uncle Bob bravely asked my Dad, "so how does it feel to be back from Bakersfield?"  and Dad replied in a moment of clarity, "I never should have gone there."   

There will be a day when enough is enough with the therapy, but for now we'll stick with the attempt to make more cognitive gains.  It will end when insurance wears out, or most hopefully, when real life catches up to him.  And to get there -- Dad needs love, he needs to feel he's back in the community he can trust and believe in, the community that holds his friendships and shares his interests, wants, and needs.  Some friends have left him... hell, some friends have left me -- we all have our own lives, I very much understand -- but those who prevail and believe are critical in the healing.  And now is the time we need you more than ever.  AND -- now is the time I THANK YOU more than ever.  To those who've joined us at our table, or have invited us to yours, or who have made visits, calls, outreaches of companionship, every little bit counts enormously -- and you know who you are.  And I love you.  You have no idea -- NO IDEA -- the pathways of progress, faith, and comfort you shape in my Dad's brain and in our new life.  And I thank you, and love you.