Dad moved from his tiny cluttered upstairs apartment to a beautiful room about an hour's drive away, in an assisted living facility near my Sister.
The cancer is taking him. He only weighs 133 lb. He hardly eats, and doesn't have much energy. He's a lot quieter and a lot more compliant than he used to be.
My Sister got him a new bed and a new couch, along with some things to brighten up the new room. She also got him a beautiful new recliner, which he really loves! My Son got him a new HDTV, which he really likes too. We were all intent on making this transition a good one for Dad. He paid for all these nice things, but he will never know... I manage his finances now. No sense skimping at this point! Live it up, Dad!
A friend helped move a few pieces of furniture into the new room, and I set up the stereo speakers which I made for him 10 years ago. They still sound remarkably good to me.
Dad is quickly getting into the rhythm of life at his new home. He enjoys the company at meal time, and having someone cook for him. He still has plans to set up a computer and do some research on the internet. I'll be amazed if he finds the energy.
I'm so happy that he's being cared for, that he's clean and well fed! Why, then, am I so sad?
It's hard for me to find God in this story right now.
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