Wow, another post. Maybe this is just making up for the months that dear K took the brunt of carrying this on for us all. You're the best!
Decisions were made recently for my mother to move in with my family but unfortunately we are stuck in limbo for at least another few months. The transition will happen and treatments will continue but for right now, a stipulation was put on her by a physician and what it boils down to is money. Won't go into details about that but will just say it's they don't want to lose the money they stand to make. I'll give this physician a few more months but then I have to put on all halts and make the transition without any roadblocks stopping me because quite frankly, things will be better when she is permanently here with us. I can't go months, years doing what I'm doing. Not physically and not mentally. My best interest lies with my mother and I know in my heart what's best. It's just a matter of getting it done.
With that being said, what my husband and I did this weekend was move her belongings to our house. It couldn't have been done any other time without killing me in the process. We've moved our children's rooms around leaving the roomiest space for my mother. Creating an in-law suite basically. She has her living room set up and her bedroom set up. She's good to go when she comes. Boxes still need to be gone through and stored. That is what I'm tending to today.
It's become an emotional task. Holding all the pictures that were displayed throughout my parents home. Pictures of dad that when I was at mom's house and walked by them, I would run my finger over him. Telling him how much I love and miss him. I'd ask him to watch over mom and help us keep her safe. I know he's here with us in spirit. Guiding us and helping her get through this mean beast that she's been dealt with. The worst was going through a bin of their jewelry chests. Coming upon dad's wedding ring that was cut off his finger. I'm assuming on his second to last trip to the hospital. Placed in a tiny zip lock bag by most presumably, a hospital employee. Tears flowed as I took the ring out of the bag. Wishing... possibly that if I rubbed it, life would go back to normal. Back before any of this ever happened. Life is never normal though. Is there really such a thing? Not for me, not for anyone. We deal with issues dealt us and muster through them with the best ability and move on. Not to say it's always the best outcome but no one ever said life was fair.
Back to the task at hand I go~
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