My Dad’s Sneakers

My dad is 84 years old and rapidly declining in his cognitive ability. Although it isn’t new, I’m still wrapping my head around this reality. It started slowly, little signs here and there so it was easy to ignore for awhile. The truth is, it was convenient for me to be hopeful that it would be temporary. That it wasn’t serious. That the decline continuous, albeit slow.

So even though I noticed that my dad could use new sneakers, I ignored it. The reasons are many, he said they were fine and he manages to get around in them.

I’m not sure what finally prompted me to look for suitable sneakers and order them this week. Turns out it was in the nick of time. Although Dad protested that he didn’t need new sneakers, he didn’t fight me when I told him he would be wearing the new pair. When I picked up his old pair to discard, I realized that the heels on both sneakers had completely broken off. There was no way he was walking around in them.

Why didn’t he tell me that he needed new sneakers? Why did he protest just now? I should have guessed sooner since I had seen a pair of white sneakers that he never wears in front of the door this past week.

And this story of Dad’s sneakers is his life and my relationship with him. I start seeing signs of a problem but ignore for as long as I can. He doesn’t see signs at all until he’s faced with it. He will find his own solution when he can, even if means he’s wearing uncomfortable sneakers that he hasn’t worn in years. I will finally get the motivation to do something and then feel guilty that I didn’t do it sooner.

I thought I left some of that parental guilt that always hovered around me as a working mom of 2 younger children. Now it’s back as I’ve become the primary caregiver for my dad. In the end, not having time, saying my dad’s difficult to deal with when making changes, having too much other stuff going on with my life are all excuses, right? I want to have as little regret as possible when he’s gone. So I’m trying to be better, do better.

Blogging Is Dead

It is 2023, over 3 year since my last post, my last attempt to blog again. I thought Covid pandemic would be a great opportunity to start writing again. Historic, unprecedented, event that lead to so many changes to our society, so many new experiences… I thought I would write about it all so I would have a recording of this time. Boy was I wrong.

So what’s prompting me now? There’s a bunch of stuff that I don’t want to write about but I thought writing/journaling in general would be good for me. I thought about getting a physical journal but typing is so much easier. I’ve looked into journal sites and apps but not sure what to choose. So I clicked on my blog, which lead to me clicking on other blogs I used to follow. Fellow mom friends, more famous bloggers and I found out that blogging is dead. Bloggers have become obsolete and have been replaced by “influencers” on social media.

So what am I doing here? I guess even though I haven’t properly blogged in years, this place is comfortable. Also so much of my personal writing is here… may be it makes sense to keep it all together? I don’t know. May be this will be the last post for another 3 years.

Surprisingly Busy

More than a month has passed since my last post. Even though there are less activities and the pace is slower, we’ve been surprisingly busy.

In April, we celebrated two death anniversaries (my mom and my FIL), S turning “Sweet 16”, P turning “double digits”, D and I celebrating our 20th. We can’t forget about Easter!  In April, we’ve acclimated to attending Mass via Facebook Live.

I still go to work at least 3 – 4 days a week. I’ve been volunteering some time at my hospital. The kids’ online school has them occupied during the day. D’s busier than ever, modifying lessons for online learning.

I’m trying to stay upbeat because let’s face it. We’re doing ok. We both have our jobs, the kids are healthy and we have enough toilet paper and paper towels to last a few months. Apparently TP and PT are scarce items. It’s hard though after about 50 days. How did people at war stay in shelter and hiding for so long? I guess we have the privilege that our very lives are dependent on it. Yeah, we can get sick and yeah we can die, but the actual percentage is low and definitely less imminent danger than say bullets and bombs.  Still, it’s starting to wear me down.

I’m in my office today and I was putting up the latest artwork from Peanut.  I didn’t notice until taking the photo to post here that mixed amongst the “love you’s” and “miss you’s” are a few “stay safe’s”. Over the past month, she’s learned not to hug me when I come home. She’s learned to wait until I’ve showered.  I guess she’s worried about me.