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Letting Go Just a Little

So they’ve been back together for less than a week and they’re already bickering, well, like the old married couple they are.

Mom has spurned the chance to stay in rehab/skilled nursing longer (gee, do you think the caregivers could have let me in on that offer?) saying she will be better off at home.

“I can’t help him here,” she said. “He gets off the bed and back into it without waiting for their help like he’s supposed to.”

“Well,” I said, “if he falls, he will just have to remain there longer.”

“There isn’t a thing I can do about it,” she responds.

Nor me, I realize in a rare moment of clarity.

Nor me.

So, they will likely be apart during my next visit, for Father’s Day and Dad’s 81st birthday, meaning transportation and logistical headaches and tables turned with her visiting him.

If I believed in God, this is where I’d insert the expression: “We plan; God laughs.”

But I don’t.

Out of my control.

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~ by Butch on June 5, 2012.

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