The Valley

We have had unusually cold weather here where we live. I believe every state but Florida. Seems to be covered with ice and snow. I feel a bit responsible since I’ve asked for a big snow for about eight years…and it all seemed to be delivered at the same time. All eight years worth, in the span of three miserable weeks.

I woke up today happily…the sun was shining. We had double digits instead of minus…and there was just a tiny bit of snow falling. My playlist was even awesome…seemed to know exactly what I wanted to hear. We all had power…let’s do this!

After work I drove to my parents house to pick up my teen who stays there when I’m at work…and that’s where my day just stopped.

My father has recently been diagnosed with dementia and we are struggling to find medications to help. We seemed to find one that was working but now not soo much.

I asked him how he was doing and he told me not very good and then proceeded to tell me this story. To him it was very real. It really happened. …and that was the hardest part of all.

I never thought that my experience clowning in a retirement home would be something that I could actually refer back to…but it was. I didn’t argue…I just listened. I had learned enough to know that arguing wasn’t helpful. Instead. I held back the tears…and listened. It’s a story I can’t talk about without crying…I just canNOT.

Since Covid, and my parents locking themselves away from society to keep from getting it seems to have severe consequences. Medications and physical activity was helping. Throw in a severe winter and Covid restrictions, and this is one of the consequences.

I have no idea how to navigate this. I have no idea how to help him. I first need to quit crying…

My Dad could tell the best stories and jokes. He sang the best songs that nobody else knew..”I see the moon, the moon sees me.” He drove only Chevy pickup trucks. With the window down and one arm on the windowsill. He let me ride in the back, on the wheel. I don’t know if they even allow that anymore. I would sing at the top of my lungs while my blonde hair flew. My sister in the cab, shaking her head and mouthing how weird I was.

My Dad worked seven days a week at General Mills Flour. Told me not to buy anything but. He built our house, built the barn our horses were in, and built fences without a machine. To this day, my favorite time of day is early evening. When the work is all done, and everyone comes home for dinner. My Dad would talk about work, tell his latest joke…and then go work outside.

My Dad has a great sense of humor, Used Old Spice and was great at cannonball. He taught me not to cry ever…but bawled harder than me at my first husbands funeral.

He taught me to work hard…and when that didn’t work…work harder. He was always early…to everything. When you said you would do something….you did it…because you said you would.

I have no idea where or how or why we have been called to this journey…but we have no choice but to push through.