Notes from Maine - 2020/10/06

We had rain and wind—all the leaves are down here now. It was a short, but pretty fall display of color. Now I’m left with three tons of leaves to mulch. Usually, I’m trying to get everything done before my friends come over for our pre-Thanksgiving party. This year, I’m not sure what we’ll do. There’s talk of an outdoor event. Sounds cold, honestly.

I went to visit my father the other day. He’s doing well, back at his house. He still has help coming twice a day. My brother is managing the caregivers now, since he lives so close to Dad. We climbed the stairs and went for a ride in my car. I wanted to see if he had made (or lost) any progress since he left my house. He seems like he’s at the same level as when he left. That’s encouraging, in a way. I really didn’t think he was going to push himself to work when he left here, but I’m glad that he didn’t lose a bunch of strength now that he’s on his own. I talked to one of his caregivers and she said that it’s a battle to get him to exercise. That’s his choice.

I’ve managed to get back to my usual schedule since he left. It feels good to be back to my regular list of tasks and chores. But it also seems like I’m killing time, waiting for something. Maybe it’s because I put so many house projects on hold this year. I really couldn’t work on my kitchen when there were so many people here, and now it doesn’t feel like my top priority. And I still haven’t welded up new railings to replace the ones I took down last fall. One thing at a time, I guess.

I wonder when the world will normal again.

This year has lasted about a decade so far. There were times when my Dad was here where I would wake up early, jolted by fear, and by the time I went to bed again it felt like a week or two had passed. There were always ten things, or at least worry about. Most of that stress was for nothing, probably. Looking back, everything worked out fine. When he came down with an infection in July and had to be hospitalized again (briefly), it seemed like I had failed, but he was fine. When a new medication made him pass out and he had to get stitches in his forehead, everything worked out. My sister carried so much of the burden then—she stayed with Dad in the emergency room all night because I wasn’t feeling well.

I guess I have enough perspective now to understand that this summer really wasn’t that big of a deal. Dad beat the odds, working until he could walk again and that’s a huge accomplishment. I’m glad that he was able to do that work here, where we could all help him through the tough times.

Thanks to everyone who sent kind words of encouragement along the way. Hearing so many stories from other people who walked the same path was really uplifting. I appreciate every good thought sent our way.