Continuing to hang out here at Mayo with wires sticking out of my head, waiting for some good old fashioned seizure energy to come coursing through. I think I might have had a couple seconds this morning, but I’ve not heard confirmation of that. I just know that I woke with a jerk from a dream of someone waking me.
Today I give thanks to my Dad. I think he’s helping me out in this journey. In an earlier post I talked about how July 7th, the day I entered the EMU, was the anniversary of my Mom’s passing and of how I am celebrating her death with this step toward rebirth. Well, this morning I got a call from my sister Jean letting me know that she’d heard from the staff at our dad’s care facility. It seems that when he fell a few days ago that he likely caused injury to his brain and created a brain bleed. The staff don’t expect that he’ll be with us much longer.
Dad has dementia. He knew my sister Jo Ann when she took him to the hospital the other day to get his injuries from the fall cared for. That was the first time since the beginning of COVID that any of us got to see him in person. It was a blessing that he recognized her and he told her to say hello to the gang. I am glad that they had that moment. She’s done so much.
For me, Dad doesn’t know that I’m in the epilepsy monitoring unit. At this stage of his illness it’s never clear if he’ll even know me or anyone else, much less understand where I am or why I am here. Still, I feel strangely like this is his way of helping. Stressors increase the likelihood of seizures. It’s literally right now good for me to cry. I’ve been wanting to reach out to him and talk with him, to talk to the Dad he was even just a few short years ago, the one who still knew us all and laughed and told stories about old times and who raised me. There’s been those fleeting moments, wanting to give him a call and realizing that he’s not there even if his body still is. But, today it feels like he’s reached out, that he’s going to help me have these seizures that I need to have for my rebirthing as his last act in his life as Dad as he prepares to go be with the love of his life, my Mom, again.
Love them both and wish them eternal peace and joy.
2 thoughts on “Endings and Beginnings”
Thinking of you, Amy. And, strange to say, hoping you have a seizure soon!
Thanks! Yeah, it’s about time for my brain to start shaking.