- My mom has been ill. After five days in the hospital (week before last), she told the doctors, “I will be going home at 6 p.m. tonight. You have 12 hours to do whatever it is you need to do.” She’s very stubborn. I could write reams about my concerns about my dear mother, but it all boils down to this: She does way too much, which is terribly hard on her body, but keeps her mentally sane and emotionally balanced. ~sigh~ The tables are indeed turned, with me checking in to see if she called the doctor on this, or the insurance company about that, and chastising her for turning down her portable oxygen tank to 3 lpm instead of 4, even though it “lasts longer” that way. ~heavy sigh~
- My hubby and I went on a date night on Saturday, which was cut short by us rescuing a doggie. Big ol’ guy — 60 lbs at least — with short legs and a bully chest… maybe an English Bulldog/Lab mix. Or, Mastiff + Staffordshire Bull Terrier. Dunno. He came right up to our truck, loved on us, rolled on his back and let us rub his tummy, gratefully ate the food we got at PetsMart for him, willingly submitted to a much-needed bath at home. I quickly jumped onto the lost & found listings on Craigslist, and submitted a report on http://www.pets911.com, and trolled the last 4 months of lost dog reports. However, I secretly hoped, those first few hours, that we wouldn’t find the owner, because I wanted to keep him forever, and had warm and affectionate feelings for his chocolate brindle messy self. Until he attacked our dog. Golly, my priorities, upon the really frightening event of breaking up the two dogs in our family room, which left mom and five children all shaking and crying, were really solidified: New dog — danger to our family dog, and potential danger to any small child wandering in/nearby a dog fight — is out the door. 😦 On Monday, after an hour of driving around the neighborhoods in about a mile radius from where we found him, I took him to the pound. They keep him for “a minimum of 72 hours” and assess his adoptability, at which point they either euthanize him, or put him up for adoption. 😦 😦 😦 It’s still heavy on my heart, and it has me wondering why God appointed that responsibility to us, and if we did the right thing.
- Sort of related to the first thing up there, I find myself REALLY wanting to be in a house into which we could invite my mom & stepdad to live. I’ve already talked with my stepdad about it (a while ago, after another medical scare from my mom), and he does want to live with us should my Mom pass… That was both a hard and a beautiful conversation. Joe has only been my “Dad” for 12 years; I was already married and with my first child when he and my mom got married. However, I love him dearly, and he is the most involved grandfather my children have (though my “real” dad and my hubby’s dad do love our kids, and they do see them regularly), and it KILLS ME to think of him on his own, after my mom dies. My hubby and I have talked a bit about selling this home and buying one more appropriately outfitted for a “guest,” but, obviously, this is a BAD AWFUL time to be putting a house on the market, and it would really, really, really have to be OF GOD for it to happen. So, I’m praying.