Saturday, November 24, 2012
It was a rough day. I got up early and baked pumpkin sourdough breads for our dinner and for The Boy to take to his Sweetheart's family . Got to my folks' house around 11:30 and made the stuffing and cranberry sauce. Seeing my dad lying in the hospital bed in the living room, so still and pale, resulted in a couple of reactions from me: I gave him a kiss every time I passed him (and he always thanked me) and I started drinking about 12:15. This is unusual for a lot of reasons. First, I'm not much of a drinker. Second, I can't remember ever drinking alcohol at noon. Third, I probably drank most of a bottle of wine by myself throughout the day.
As you can imagine, I didn't have a particularly successful food day. In fact, the only plan that I followed was that I didn't take home leftovers for us other than turkey; oh, and I didn't eat my sister's amazing apple crisp. Back to watching my weight yesterday. Thursday was a food disaster.
It sucks watching your father die.
Here's the good part. I was sitting with him as the rest of the family was in the family room. After a while, I asked him if I could sit on the bed with him, and he said "sure," so I laid down next to him, put my head on his chest and just cuddled with him, listening to his heart beat. He put an arm around my shoulders and kissed me on the forehead ("I love you, babe"), and we were just quiet for about a half-hour or so. If he was uncomfortable, he didn't show it or complain.
If this is the last memory that I have of my father, this is a good thing.