Wednesday, June 21, 2006

For the past week, Daddy has been staying with my brother and sister-in-law in Tennessee. Momma was going to the Presbyterian General Assembly in Birmingham, Alabama.

Each day she has been gone, Daddy has gone into his bedroom and packed his suitcase. He thought Momma was coming back each day. She has been gone for almost a week.

Each night, he has kept my brother and/or sister-in-law up all night, calling them every 15 to 30 minutes to come and help him get up, get down, straighten the sheets, go to the bathroom, pack his bag, get a doughnut, or just to ask if they were still there. No one has slept more than 3 hours in a row since his arrival.

Each of his declines comes with a fall further than he had been before and a fall too far to get back up to where he used to be. Last night, he called out for his dad all night long. When my brother went in to help him, Daddy called him, "Daddy."

Each time a new development occurs with Daddy, my mom tries to analyze it. She talks about medicine changes, differences in their schedule, him being in an unfamiliar environment, or how she hasn't taken good enough care of him. It is time for that to stop.

The fact of the matter is that is doesn't matter anymore why he is getting worse in leaps and bounds. What matters is what we are going to do to handle it. If it is medicine, then how quickly are we going to fix it? What are we going to do to make sure that all his different doctors are on the same page? What are we going to do to make sure that Momma gets to sleep?

What are we willing to give up? Work? Privacy? Space? Pride? Location? Friends?

There comes a time I think when it is just time to shut up and act. I obviously think this time is now for my parents.