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Uneasy night...
Sep. 20th, 2005 07:43 amMy dad hit the sack pretty early, intending to sleep later than usual this morning. After observing the evening and morning routines that he had established in caring for my mom, and knowing that his knees make it painful for him to stand for more than a few minutes at a time, I'm surprised that sleeping in is all he wants to do.
I spent Sunday night up in the den, as the nurse from Brooklyn - Nurse #1 in my head - had her stuff ranged in my old room. My dad put her on hiatus while I'm in town, and despite the fact that my room was available last night, I elected to sleep in the den again. If nothing else, I'm at the other end of the house from my dad and don't have to move about as if on eggshells to keep from waking him (which is probably more me acting from force of habit than anything else).
The phone trilled a half-ring last night at about midnight, causing my heart to leap up my throat. I rose, my eyes fixed in semi-horror on the instrument and fully expecting it to ring a second time, but it didn't, even after the requisite subjective eternity had passed. To make sure, I picked up the handset and was reassured by the monotony of the dial tone. Many, many moons ago, you see, my grandmother ended up in the very same hospital suffering from the slings and arrows of old age, and we had been roused soon after midnight by phone to be informed that she had passed on.
Perhaps I imagined the ringing sound? I don't know, and don't know at this point which I prefer: to have indeed imagined it, or to have not.
Reviewing the aforetyped, I'm thinking perhaps it might be best to break out of this maudlin mindset and start to focus on the here and now, and let ride the stuff that's well and truly out of my control.
Cheers...
I spent Sunday night up in the den, as the nurse from Brooklyn - Nurse #1 in my head - had her stuff ranged in my old room. My dad put her on hiatus while I'm in town, and despite the fact that my room was available last night, I elected to sleep in the den again. If nothing else, I'm at the other end of the house from my dad and don't have to move about as if on eggshells to keep from waking him (which is probably more me acting from force of habit than anything else).
The phone trilled a half-ring last night at about midnight, causing my heart to leap up my throat. I rose, my eyes fixed in semi-horror on the instrument and fully expecting it to ring a second time, but it didn't, even after the requisite subjective eternity had passed. To make sure, I picked up the handset and was reassured by the monotony of the dial tone. Many, many moons ago, you see, my grandmother ended up in the very same hospital suffering from the slings and arrows of old age, and we had been roused soon after midnight by phone to be informed that she had passed on.
Perhaps I imagined the ringing sound? I don't know, and don't know at this point which I prefer: to have indeed imagined it, or to have not.
Reviewing the aforetyped, I'm thinking perhaps it might be best to break out of this maudlin mindset and start to focus on the here and now, and let ride the stuff that's well and truly out of my control.
Cheers...
