It was better, but still weird and hard. We talked a lot about where they might move and why and whether they just wanted to stay where they are. I don’t know how that’s going to resolve.
But it’s hard to be mad at them and then have all these very reasonable discussions about what needs to happen when Dad declines. What the finances for Mom look like once he’s gone.
I’m this tangle of grief and anger. He’s getting frail. He knows it. He’s got some big heart check-up thing next month and that’s going to be, I guess, the impetus for them to make some decisions.
I just feel insane–sad and angry and grateful for the time we have to spend together, but also absolutely ready for them either to get the fuck on to Georgia or for the Butcher to get here so that it’s not just me and them. I feel weird about knowing these are the only moments we get together and I don’t want them if they’re just going to make me feel like shit.
I want a way to be kind to them and to provide for them the best care and I want for that not to cost me my sanity or my well-being.