I am sad and empty. Dad is doing worse. Sigh. It's happening pretty fast all things considered, or maybe not. He's not been eating well for a couple of weeks. When he was in the hospital, fluids helped a lot, but he still wouldn't really eat. Poor guy. My Dad LOVED to eat. He's the kind of guy that all-you-can-eat places threw out because he'd eat so much. Yea. It's hard.
I don't think I should go back just yet. I feel sort of like I should, but not really. Does that make me a terrible daughter? Dad always said, "Do good stuff for people while they are alive so they can know it. Don't wait until they die to do nice things." Though he might still "know" I was there (might--he's losing lucidity quickly it sounds), he also wanted me to "take good care of the girls and not go running back and forth all the time." When I left last Saturday (geez, not even a week), I told him to tell someone if he wanted me there and that I would come.
Today's the "eating day" and bleh. We don't really eat turkey so I decided to make this comforting soup.
Oh, last night, when I went grocery shopping, it wasn't too bad. It wasn't too busy and people were nicer than they were last year. That's good. It gives me a little hope for humanity.
The good...
This morning, all the little girls came and piled in bed with MWH and me. It was fun... Three-a wanted me to play tickle monster, and who can possibly refuse that??? She screamed with laughter and begged me to stop tickling her. When I stopped she begged me to tickle some more. Heh.
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