Friday

It’s Friday evening. I’m resting in bed after sitting with my Dad. Dad had a late supper. He ate most of his food. He’s resting now in his recliner. He started humming to himself. I think he likes it here in our nursing home. However, when I told him I talked to Social Security to change our address, he looked alarmed. He asked me why I changed our address. Then before I could answer him, his face cleared and said it was ok we can change our address later. He meant he was thinking we would live elsewhere in the future.

I didn’t want to puncture his idea balloon by saying that we were going to live here forever. I am also thinking we would find a place of our own out of this nursing home.

Don’t get me wrong. There’s plenty to praise our home. We have several servings of fruits and vegetables at lunch and dinner. There’s housekeeping to clean our floors and take the trash out and wipe surfaces. The nurses are good and friendly. The CNAs are also good and friendly.

What I wish for is to do some work here. But I don’t have a computer and printer handy. I have journals to write on. I might write a story or a few poems. I just don’t have access to my Muse. He’s spending time away from me.

Days go by and what fills my mind are thoughts about what food I will eat at the next meal. I have to reach 100 pounds of weight before they disconnect me from my feed completely. There have been meals when I find the entree bland or dry. Then I drink a bottle of Boost. A good friend brings us a box of Boost. She’s one of the few that visits us.

I have to pray that God’s plan for us will be life away from the nursing home. I hope He won’t abandon us here.