and… arrived

My family is not always the best at clear communication. We were the worst example of that telephone game. Or maybe the best.

I am home in good old Solon, Ohio. I missed my dad; he has returned to the nursing home for the night. He was upset that he didn’t get to see me, but – the thing is – I didn’t have the impression I was trying to get home that early today. He will be here tomorrow, when the entire family is here, which is what I was aiming for all along. My mom got it a bit wrong and passed it along and then he got it a bit more wrong. So on and so on it goes…

I am told he is recovering well. If he gets to a certain point, the surgeon will go through with the knee replacement, which will get him more mobility again, eventually. Even with his diabetes, the doctors think he has a good chance of recovery. I am a bit hesitant in it, but it will be exactly whatever it will be. I am concerned. I still don’t think he has changed habits; in this case, meaning that he will work to get better, just better enough to get by and then let it all slide again…

I want him to change, but that is his pattern. He has followed it most of my lifetime.

I love him, but I can’t ride his roller coaster any more. I will wait for him on the park bench over by the coaster’s exit. It’s even in the shade.