Took Dad for his second eye surgery this morning. Such bitchin' moanin' complainin' grumblin' and grippin' I've never heard. You'd think it was a heart transplant. And, it's not because he's 92 either. He has always been like this, but my Mom was alive back then to deal with it. All I can say is I'm glad he doesn't have a third eye!
It's a georgous, sunny day today, but I can't mow because it rained during the night. It'll take another day for the yard to dry out. It was 80 yesterday and somewhere around that today.
2 comments:
Awww ...I'm glad (for both your sake and HIS) that he doesn't have a third eye too!
When my mom died in 1989, we moved from Virginia to Colorado to help my dad with a fledgling business he'd started. When he proposed the idea, he told me to think hard about it ...did I really think I could live with my old man again. I told HIM to think long and hard because I was bringing a husband, a teenager, a pre-teen and three dogs with me! We both thought it over long and hard and decided it was a good thing.
No regrets on my part, but I do recall telling one of my sisters on the phone after a month or two that the longer I live with our dad, the more I admired our deceased mom! At one point, I threatened to write a book and call it, "Life as My Father's Mother" ...lol
Truly, no regrets. My dad was a crotchety cantankerous old coot most of the time, but sharing our home with him during his last years enriched our lives beyond measure.
Hope you got to enjoy some of the gorgeous day, Sharon.
: )
I don't mind taking care of him. It's just he is SO negative about the tiniest thing. I took care of a friend until she died of cancer. She fought it for 23 years and never once did a negative word come out of her mouth. I had enough of it this afternoon when we got back from the surgical center so I told him just that. He just looked at me and didn't say a word. Probably won't change anything but I feel better.
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