A New Day

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A New Day

I am hopeful about today. I don’t know why really… It’s just like every other day… But I feel like today will yield something different and special for me – in a positive way.

Last week was a bit blah for me. It started off on the wrong foot and pretty much danced on that foot all week. I finally did it – I donated Daddy’s car to Kars4Kids. We weren’t driving it. It was one more car in the armada for us to move to observe alternate side of the street and the longer we kept it, the more electrical problems it would unveil to us.

That car was Dad’s physical power. It was the one thing he had complete jurisdiction over in our household. No one else had a license so if we wanted to go somewhere far, our final recourse was to ask him. And he enjoyed the role. He complained profusely… Downright denied us passage often. And if he did acquiesce, it was with misery the whole way. He’d sometimes, knowing there was a direct route between point A & Z, would find every point in between to not go directly (regardless of urgency or time constraints).

He encouraged me often during those complaints to get my license and then he’d freely lend me the car so he could be left in peace. I didn’t get my license till I was good and ready… But when I did – it wasn’t ever so easy. He complained (of course), found new and imaginary places he needed to go suddenly upon my asking for use of the car…. Just a bevy of flaming hoops to jump through to use the car that, because of the increasing loss of sensibility in his right leg, he was unable to use.

After the third or fourth trip to the hospital where between Domi, Earl and I we’d have to physically hoist him up to move him about and I HAD to drive the car, he sat down with me one day (no mom to mediate, which was usually the only way he chose to speak to me as an adult) and with keys and registration in hand, surrendered the car. He gave it to me and asked me to take good care of it. And that was that. He never drove it again.

My dad taught me how to drive the same way he taught me piano – unrelenting, harsh commentary and zero praise. I like to think i’m a better driver (and pianist) for it. He did tell me once he felt that I drove well…

I was sad to give the car away.

No one likes to admit though… That with the passing of an ailing loved one comes a freedom. Their freedom from pain and suffering. Your unlocked from the strictures of caretaking. And if losing them didn’t hurt so bad… The freedom would feel great. I haven’t seen the inside of a hospital / hospice since.

I do have a cousin who is preparing to make her departure. I need to stop by and offer my thanks to her for babysitting Domi and I as kids and to say goodbye. I can feel the families impending relief… They’ve been caring for her since before my Grandma died.

I pray they find comfort in their new day that awaits them.



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