Saying Goodbye Before It Hurts

An all-American boy meets an all-Canadian girl at Utah State and the rest is history. On a weekend whim the two married in Veags and with brand new teaching degrees in hand they started chasing their California dream....



Mom the pianist, Dad the jazz drummer. Mom drove a '64 Mustang, Dad a '62 VW Bug. A house in the suburbs. Both taught at the same High School. Mom the French teacher, Dad the Marching Band director. They lived an idealic life...Kelli and I came along eleven years later

No one could have ever imagined the effects mental illness and Dad's box wine obsession would have on their lives....

Mom passed away eight years ago this month, nine years ago this month she entered care, it was not her choice. Saying goodbye started years before. Mental illness and COPD had robbed her cognition, independence, ability to find joy, or show love. She suffered greatly. Slowly saying goodbye was the only way I could comperhend  the heartache.

I sit here today heavy hearted ...a deja vu of sorts. My sister arrived in California today. We are required to assess Dad's ability for self care, health and safety A social worker from OC Adult Protective Services called five days ago, after a report was called in... "how soon can you get here, I am deeply concerned about your father"... Only my sister was in a place to run to the rescue.

I have felt this heartache before, and that doesn't make it any easier. The road ahead looks kind of rocky as once again I find myself slowly saying good bye to a parent.

No life isn't fair....But I don't think it's supposed to be. Even through the heart ache I know my life is blessed.  I am loved by the funniest, craziest, most compassionate, Superman , rug rats and friends around...In them I find the courage and faith to keep crawling, skipping, cartwheeling, limping in the right direction.