I wish I could find some for my parents. Sometimes there just isn't any. Thanks to the many of you in the Santa Fe posse who've asked with such concern about them. (The recent blog history of this long adventure: here, here, here, and here -- scroll to the bottom of the last one.)Below, my usual trek every day that I can get out to see them. Pop is in a nursing home on the west side, the only place I could find here that has a VA contract (he's a disabled WWII vet; left a leg behind in Europe in 1944). Mother is down in Henderson at another long-term care facility. She just got out of her 3rd stay at St. Rose since my niece and I brought her to Vegas on July 15th.
A month ago my Pop was severely incoherent and looked to be failing fast. He's lost a lot of weight, and is now getting hospice care. But, the past week or so he's been way more alert (relatively speaking). This is pretty much a repeat of his condition a couple of years ago, when he was first written up for hospice down in Florida. We thought he was goin' down back then, too.
Now it's my Ma who is losing it big-time. She was cognitively sharp as a tack until about April of this year. This shit breaks my heart, man. Been doin' the next-of-kin thingy since 1996. I get really tired and down, but, hey, the world is full of heartache. Slog on.
THURSDAY "COMIC" RELIEF
FRIDAY UPDATE, OBITRocky Gordon's Dad Irv (Vegas sax cat for Billy Holiday, Frank Sinatra, and Tony Bennett. etc) just passed away.
Our condolences, bro'.
1 comment:
BobbyG,
Your dad really does look good. I think he looked flattered when you said you were shooting a movie of him, and then he kind of clammed up. Self-conscious? At a loss for words? Who knows.
But I think he got a kick out of it, anyway.
Hang in there!
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