~Stanley on Thanksgiving morning~
My camera received little attention over the past week - I think the only time that I took it anywhere with me was on Thanksgiving morning when I went outside early with Stanley. It was a foggy morning - a day that didn't feel much like a holiday, since I had spent the previous 48 hours in the first floor basement of my Father's home, going through my Mother's things.
It's strange, the things that get to you: a pair of pinking shears. Images of my Mother cutting out patterns when I was young came rushing back into my head - she used to sew alot when I was young. And there was rick-rack...remember rick-rack? Then there was a bag of her Mother's dresses - so my Grandmother Frankie - cut into squares ready to be made into a quilt. I've never liked to sew (confession: I got a 'D' in Home Economics in 7th grade mainly because of the sewing projects) but going through all of my Mom's bags of fabric made me want to make a quilt. Perhaps a quilt of my Grandmother's dresses. (Yeah, right, just what I need - something else to do).
~tiny spiderweb boats sailing across the forest floor~
I wasn't at my best this week. I was worn out, tired, quiet - focused more on what I needed to get done for my Father (which were two large projects: cleaning out the first floor basement apartment for his 'live-in' person and organizing/taking over his finances) than on being either gracious or friendly. It was a bit overwhelming, no - it was alot overwhelming - this taking over of my Father's life. It had to be done, undeniably, and it's a relief tonight knowing that things will be a bit easier for him as a result. He is such a sweet, sweet man - and is fighting little of this transition. Tonight his live-in healthcare person is with him - he really enjoys her, and she's great with him. She'll be moving this week into the first floor apartment - a bed will be delivered on Monday or Tuesday for her - and hopefully soon she'll be settled in, and they'll get into a comfortable routine. So all of that is good - and now I'm home, exhausted, but back in the Airstream.
It was strange coming home, and first turning on the electricity at the fuse box and the water before opening the door of my 'home'. The Vornado heater is on - and it's finally warming up. It was 49 degrees inside when I got home - which really isn't too bad (I had turned the electricity and water off for the week). It was strange in my Dad's home - I kept thinking to myself 'wow, he heats up all of this space!' and I know it's this whole getting used to compact living thing and the truth is that I rarely sit in the Airstream thinking 'I wish this place was larger'. I'm sure the time will come, but thankfully it hasn't happened yet.
It's time to sleep. I'm tired, drained, emotionally-spent and glad to be home.