Sunday April 4, 2010

So the drive was decent. The main irk that I had was that I couldn't watch or listen to conference while i was driving the 600 miles to home. That is the biggest bummer, because if I don't see it when it happens, well, I never take the time to go back later and check it out. I just don't. It is not one of my strong points. I have always wanted to be one of those people who streams conference talks since the beginning of time because they missed something or other, but I am not there yet. Too busy living I guess. Some of you in Utah or Idaho are probably wondering why I didn't listen to it on my drive through Montana, so let me just school you on one little point. The radio stations in Montana do not play conference. They play country and you are lucky if you can find that. Mostly they play fuzz, Weeeeeooooooozzzeeeeeeeeeeee and clicks and boring libertarian talk shows that aren't mainstream, and aren't played anywhere else. Also even if I COULD have listened to conference (which I couldn't, so get off your high horse) I am not sure that would have been the smartest move with 3 little kids that are sitting in the car all day. I think most of you probably get the picture.

So the drive was normal. Standard kid movies in the background. Standard potty breaks. Standard car sickness. Standard air conditioner blowing while it is 36 degrees outside to stave off the said sickness. Apples, junior mints, crackers, water, apples, carrots, PB sandwich, WW bagel and a bit of Monster Drink-just for safety's sake. Standard ask for the binky 1000 times. How could I have forgotten that thing anyway. Insanity.

When we arrived in my hometown, I went straight to the hospital. I looked for parking but every space seemed to have a specific function to frustrate me. Special parking for this and that. How about parking for a mom with 3 kids who drove all day to see my dying dad? How about a frickin parking spot for that???? I finally picked a spot designated for something or other and cursed at it under my breath, as I ignored the specific type of person who was allowed to park there. I walked in through the emergency door, and there were these signs with arrows to where I needed to go. The kids were waddling from being in the car for so long. A wanted to walk on her own so I didn't carry her. Passed the lab, passed the medical office building. Watching the blue squares appear before us on the floor and then disappear beneath our feet and behind us. We went up the elevator to the fifth floor and then to the room. I think it was 511. As soon as you step off the elevator there is a nurses station there. I walked past with my noisy giggly talky crowd of kids. And then I walked into dad's room. My mom was there. She looked tired. Exhausted. Worn to a frazzle. Poor Mom. There was dad too. The whole reason I came here. He looked so thin and old. I guess when you die, you just begin to look worn out, and he had certainly earned his looks. He was on Fentanol patches to control the pain from his af and infections. He didn't seem like he was completely there, but that is ok. It was still good to see him. I talked to my mom. She was drinking from some kind of self recycled clear plastic cup with watered down caffeine free diet coke in it. The ice made tiny lumps in the top of the drink which showed the fact that the ice was nearly gone, and the drink was neither fresh nor ice cold. My kids were restless and after talking to mom, my dad had to have d so we all went to the waiting area on floor 5 and talked to mom. S wanted to read the people magazine and I told here no way. That magazine is sure as hell not for kids. It is pretty much a clothing optional mag. So once that was ironed out my mom told me how weak and done my dad was. It was sad hearing her talk about it. Then my uncle m came and it was nice to see him. My dad sure loves him, he is one of the greatest brothers. So we talked to him for awhile, and eventually were able to go back in and see my dad. Mom said that someone from the ward was bringing dinner. I think it was Janet and she brought a white chicken lasagna. K was expecting me at moms house. I told the kids to give grandpa a hug. Grandpa is in a hospital gown and doesn't exactly look like grandpa, so they are a little worried. A goes first and gives him a hug, then S gives one of her small gentle hugs. So sweet. Finally I pick up little A and plop her on my dads right side in the crook of his arm with her head on his chest. His weak arm went around her and gave her a pat. She snuggled into him completely and he gave a big smile and a chuckle as he gave her a squeeze. It was the last smile and chuckle I saw and heard from my dad. I took the kids back through the Hospital/labrynth and we made our way back to the van. I feel numb and not from the cold. It is coming from inside. I can tell it is my mind's way of protecting me so that I don't tear my hair out and scream. Because it is nearly all over and soon he will be gone.