I understand things could be worse, but this trip to visit my mother was difficult. I was not surprised by anything I had to do, like helping her remember things, repeating requests and statements numerous times, and hearing stories repeatedly, but it’s worse than it ever has been. I am glad that I made it to visit; I am glad that I am headed home.
This morning I am finally getting a bowling alley breakfast. For the last three days we’ve eaten breakfast at another restaurant. We almost ate lunch/dinner at the same place for the third time too but didn’t since I couldn’t find parking.
I am not looking forward to getting on the scale tomorrow; I have eaten too many Florida-sized meals and am feeling fat. I may take a pass this week. I can’t wait to not eat so much food because apparently I still can’t leave food on my plate. I have also eaten more meat on this trip than I care to do these days.
Once again a trip to Florida has reminded me that getting old isn’t pretty, and as 56 looms nearer I should figure out how to enjoy my life more. I am looking forward to resigning from my job, it will be like buying a little time, though I will certainly miss the paychecks. Hopefully when I am ready to be employed again I will have the opportunity.
Florida is home to an amazing array of creatures not often found in Atlanta. On Saturday morning I had to usher out some form of lizard that ran into the house when I opened the front door. I had to do so before my mother saw it, and would wonder why I “let it” into the house. I also took a picture of a large cricket I saw yesterday, but I was unable to get the Flickr embed code using my iPhone.
Bingo is a stupid, stupid game. On both bingo outings this weekend neither my mother nor I won a goddamn thing. Without the aid of aunts, and my mother’s memory failing, the student became the teacher as I guided us through the evening’s games on Friday as well; it wasn’t pretty.
If you ever shake your head at my stubbornness, I know exactly from whence it has come. ðŸ˜‚
The other day I realized that this December will mark thirty years since I moved out of Florida. Where does the time go?
As you read this I am most likely somewhere on I-75, hopefully with new-to-me beers in the trunk. I will most likely stop at Buc-ees, and depending on my desire to get back ITP a few other places along the way.
Hope you had an enjoyable and healthy weekend.