Oh, my dear blog, I've missed you so......

Here's the question---am I back to my daily early morning blogging?
There's no clear answer to that. But, I am ever hopeful.

My early morning blogging is a piece of my life that has become very important and powerful to and for me. It's reconnected me with the joy of writing, it's reconnected me with old friends, it's connected me to my weight loss journey and it has connected me with some very dear folks--who I now consider friends.

But, the reality is....

Life has changed quite a bit here in Judiland since I last blogged. Yes, in that very short period of time--my world has become very different. Sure, I walked through my days like I always do. And, just for good measure--to keep it real--my car broke down. True to Judi form--it's some weird problem that needs further investigation--a fan blade broke, sharded and pierced the radiator and who knows what else--on a newer vehicle with low mileage. And, in this short one week space of time when life was throwing curve balls at me--I witnessed one of the most spectacular rock 'n roll events in the history of my life--my 40th Bruce concert. And, I even found a new food to love--boursin cheese. So, yeah, there was lots of normalness.

But, Judiland also took on a new normal....

My dearly beloved father had a stroke. It did not take away his physical capacity as many strokes do. Instead, it took away his cognitive abilities---the very part of him that I have come to treasure more and more with each passing year. His sharp commentary and his charming wit have been replaced by befuddleness and confusion. He can't process commands, he can't problem solve to any great degree and he has lost partial sight. And, the sad thing is--there are moments that he knows it. When that realization hits him---he just looks at me--with his watery blue eyes. I ask him what he's thinking but he doesn't respond. And, I wonder. Other times, when he is aware, he tells me he can't believe he had a stroke. And, I tell him that it's okay. And, he stares right through me. I have no idea what he is thinking--if he is thinking. Most of the questions that I ask him--he answers me with "We'll see." The funny thing about that response is that it's the very same response I would give my own children when they were younger and I didn't want to come right out and say something they didn't want to hear. And, another thing that's going on is that he's taken his sadness over his brother Patsy's Alzheimers to a new level. Although he has always been saddened by it, now, he seems devastated by it. When his brother came to visit him--he seemed perturbed and bothered by his presence. Funny thing is--the only person on this green earth who my uncle knows--and cares about--is my father--compounding the overall sadness for both of them. And, there's one more thing--my father is pissed at Mel Gibson. Very pissed.

Amid all of the emotions and medical mumbo-jumbo that we've been dealing with---there are the practical things that can't be ignored. And, then, there's the red tape. That alone can turn a law abiding citizen into a criminal and a saint into a sinner. All of a sudden---my sisters and I are faced with adulthood in a whole new way. We can't help but wonder how it happened so fast. We all feel like we haven't had enough time, we aren't old enough to be forced into taking on these roles. These are the things our parents have to deal with! After all, we're mere children--at the tender ages of 50, 49 and 45. Who will tell us what the right thing is to do?

This Memorial Day weekend has taken on a whole new meaning. For the past 36 years, it's been the weekend that we lost our mother to cancer. Now, it's the weekend we had to place our father in a place we never wanted to put him, where he never wanted to go.

Funny how things happen.....