Today is a New Day

Dad is very pleasant and willing to laugh and be happy today.  180% change.  Hard to keep up but I’m extremely grateful.  Must have been all the prayers and good wishes.

I’m exhausted but cleaned the house today while they were at church just asking for healing for all as I did them, ran some errands, took a nap.

Everyone feels better today than they did even this morning.

The roller coaster ride begins I’m afraid but at least my plea that my relationship with my father not end acrimoniously was answered.

Oh Crap

My dad just tried to break my mother’s arm.  I had to call the cops on my own father.  Today is going to get very bad indeed.

Update: Since dad didn’t strike either my mom or me (he lunged at me) the police just had a talk with everyone.

Dad decided this morning that he is going to divorce my mother.  His dementia has become increasingly apparent.  Mom took the keys to the car away two weeks ago and the checkbook three days ago.  Dad is very angry with me because I intervened when he threatened Mom two days ago.  He wants me to move out.

So Dad was threatening her this morning to give him the keys.  She refused.  Then something transpired but I don’t know what it was but it resulted in dad having a key to the car.  Mom came in my room and told me that he had a key but he couldn’t drive away because she locked the doors.  I said Mom he’s in the car right now (my window overlooks the driveway).  She ran out there and got in the passenger side.  Told him no.  She had the passenger door open and he started backing up and scraping along the rockery.  Mom is shouting no.  Then I see the car stop and Dad grabbed Mom and she starting shrieking and screaming NONONONONONONONONONONONO.

I tore out of the house and saw he had her arm in a death grip.  I thought he was going to break her arm.  A neighbor came running, a very wonderful lovely and strong landscaping woman. She called the police first.  The car was rolling down the driveway, Mom pulled the emergency brake.  Dad got out of the car and came at me in a threatening lunge.  He’s hit mom in the past and me as well (when I was child).   Threatened me and told me to get out.  I called the police.  Mom called a family friend. They arrived at the same time.

They came, they were just lovely.  Two of Seattle’s truly finest.  Their behavior and manner was so kind, so professional.  We don’t want Dad in trouble.  Dad is one of the nicest men you will ever meet.  But he’s no longer all there.  And his violent streak which has been dormant for a long time is in the fore these days.

The cops asked him to hand over the big set of keys (what could he do) and they asked him to swear he would no longer drive.  He declared he didn’t know where the second set was. They talked about diabetics driving are like drunk drivers and they will take his license if he drives and has a low blood sugar episode.  They counciled him that if he hits either of us, it is assault and they will arrest him because they will have no choice.  Dad’s a lawyer, he knows but I think they saw through him a bit.  He said he couldn’t find the second set of keys. He knows where they are, I’m certain of it and so were the police.  They took me aside outside and told me to buy a Club for the car so it can’t be driven.  A brilliant and inexpensive solution.  I will be getting one shortly.

Dad wants me to move out.  He’s very angry.  But Mom needs me more than ever and so does Dad whether he realizes it or likes it.  I don’t know what we’re going to do in this transition stage.  Half the time he’s totally himself and lucid and that other half he’s not even close, no way.  But the only time we talk about is when he’s lucid of course and since he has no memory of the incidents he claims they didn’t happen.  H’s becoming more and more aggressive, less and less capable of making a good decision.  Less and less capable of managing his diabetes and low blood pressure (that has many of its own severe problems).  He’s not ready for assisted living or any home care. We’re on our own for now.

My Mom’s wrist is missing a big chunk of skin, bloody and terribly bruised.  She lied and told Dad he didn’t do it, told the police she wasn’t hurt.  I can’t tell you my anguish when I saw it and everyone was gone.  My mother is a very brave lady.  She is going to contact my brother today and let him know what is going on.  She agreed that I can’t because my brother will blame me.  She now sees all with intense clarity and I am no longer alone.  But Goddess, I didn’t want it this way.

Dad is gone for an hour or so.  I’m leaving to go buy a club and to answer phones at the AA intergroup, get out of my self.  Get away from Dad.

If you have any energy to spare, it is most welcome…

The Boot Lady

Life continues…

Been looking for a new pair of leather boots, the kind that will not only last through the winters but the kind of classic style and quality that will last a couple decades like my last ones did.  I had to give them up because my calves became too large to fit them any more.  Not surprising, this has always been a problem even in my smallest days of size 6.  As a sprinter and hurdler, skiier and dancer, my calves have always been “developed.”  I found a few short pairs that I liked a lot, two with cuban heels  but they were $155 and I just couldn’t justify it.  Not only was that way over my budget but they were online and I couldn’t try them on first and they would have been a total pain to deal with if they didn’t work.  I could buy some of the biker boots, my last pair were harley’s with the harness, but they’ve become so fashionable, so trendy, that I really didn’t want to go there at all.

There are two really styling women at my noon meeting.  Both boots and jeans women.  I asked one where she shopped and she seemed mortified that I would ask.  The other happily told me all about the boot lady from the local farmers market.  And that she’d opened a new shop right up the street, which it turns out I had driven past the week before and wondered.

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Soup ~ Cancer for the Week

Soup is your metaphor for the week, Cancerian. Symbolically speaking, it’s the key to your personal power and a model for the approach you should take in everything you do. On the most basic level, you might want to eat some soup every day. That will make potent suggestions to your subconscious mind about how to mix lots of ingredients together so that their value and beauty as a totality are more than the sum of their parts. Not just in the kitchen, but in every area of your life, blend many little miscellaneous things into one big interesting thing.

Working on it, working on it.

funny-pictures-snow-cone-cat-tastes-the-rainbow

No News

Is Good News.

I can tell you that meetings with my sponsor are going well. I’ve been doing some 10th step work with her and I have to say she’s been very kind and so far she hasn’t assigned me any amends.  So far so good.  For those who aren’t familiar:

Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.

I had some questions for her.  Am I walking around with a big shield up? Am I coming across as hardened?  My heart still aches for my parents, still healing from the loss of friends and a family member, still healing from last winter’s severe crack.   Am I too brutally honest? Do I hurt people?  M said he couldn’t be with me because I was brutally honest (after he said I was too old) and even though I don’t trust that, am I?  I’m going to remain vigilant but assume he’s just still raw in general and is only afraid I might be, not that I have been.  Usually if I say something harsh it rings in my head until I apologize. I got no head ringing.

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