Dad has a walker!

There is a new contraption in sitting in our living room - a beautiful blue walker.  Gail came for a visit last week and was able to convince Dad that a walker would really help him.  Then they picked out a really nice one with four wheels, brakes, basket and a seat.  He used it on his trip to the library this week and even made his arms tired (a good sign!)  I'm so grateful for Gail's ability to come in and make suggestions that help us all function better and then actually get it done.   I now find myself in the hilarious position of traffic controller since getting them in and out of the bathroom and bedroom takes a little maneuvering.

As grateful as I am that Dad has some relief for his left foot; I find myself struggling with the reality of how much he has failed this year.  This is where I run smack dab into my deepest desire to still play god.  As I see him mentally failing and bewildered over Mom's condition, I find myself wanting to fix things.  When I see them both sleeping more frequently and our house feels more like a nursing home, I have to ask myself, "what did you expect?"  Now with Dad succumbing to the need for a walker (one that he fought for so long), I cannot deny how much they are failing.  The evidence is parked right in front of me. 

I just started reading a new book from the library called "The Art of Dying and Living."  I can tell that it's going to be another timely read that will help me in this journey toward death (both my own and those of Mom and Dad).  I live with impending death (we all do but it has moved in with us in a more imminent manner) and yet I can still keep "death-denial" alive.  It is amazing to me how I can continue to expect Mom and Dad to get stronger and better.  Where does that come from?!  I have no doubt that this is changing me in powerful ways and I'm still very grateful for this opportunity.  I choose to embrace the quote from the first chapter of the book: "keep death and judgement always in your eye; none's fit to live but who is fit to die."  This is my challenge and one of the many gifts that have come with caring for Mom and Dad.