Too close and too far from home.

Well, life is cruising along....literally. My typical week consists of no less than 4 visits to Mom and Dad at the Assisted Living Facility. That's fine and I'm glad to see them and check in, but I have to say, the drive is a bit overwhelming. The thing is, Dad has a whole bunch of PT appointments set up - with two separate PTs. This week, there are 4 appointments plus a visit from the Family Care nurse. So every time he has to see the PT, I drive 30 minutes to pick him up, 30 minutes back to the appointment, 30 minutes back to the Assisted Living facility and then 30 minutes back home to my house. 120 miles, 4 times a week. I'm gonna need an oil change...and a drink.

But it's OK. It really is. I keep reminding myself of these facts:

- It's a short-term problem. PT won't last forever - just a few weeks.
- The PT gives Dad a bit of a workout.
- It gets Dad out of their apartment and away from the TV.
- It gives me an opportunity to nag him about moving/drinking water/interacting with people while I'm driving and he's passively passengering along.
- It's just driving. It's not moving furniture. On the list of things that are hard to do, driving is pretty far down. (Although the sciatica MUST be fixed - ouch!!)
- Dad and I have the oddest and most interesting conversations:

Me: So how's it going Dad?
Dad: OK.
Me: Have you done any more of the "Exercise Your Brain" classes?
Dad: No. They're lame.
Me: But Dad, it's important that you interact with people. It's good for you.
Dad: Basically, they're a bunch of old farts. They're all in their 80s.
Me: You mean like you?
Dad: I mean LATE 80s.

He's a piece of work, isn't he? This conversation confirms what my sister and I believed: Dad doesn't think he's old. Every day, he wakes up and he's surprised that nothing works the way it used to. Maybe it's better that way. Maybe, if you had instant perspective on how old you are and how crushed your body is, you'd just give up. The other day, I had this conversation with Mom:

Me: So how does it work when you get to lunch?
Mom: Well, we sit at the same place every time.
Me: Do you sit with anyone interesting?
Mom: Well, there's this woman, Marilyn. She's pretty sharp. But the poor thing. She only has one eye.

Here's where my Mom is AWESOME. Mom has macular degeneration. She literally can't even see her own face when she looks in the mirror. Marilyn probably has at least one good eye and yet Mom feels bad for her! Priceless.

This week, life was, once again, put in sad perspective. The shooting at the Sikh Temple outside Milwaukee was less than a mile from Mom and Dad's new home. In fact, Dad and I drove past the temple yesterday and will do so every time I pick him up. The families of the victims would give anything to have 30 minutes with their loved ones. I have to remind myself of that every time I complain about my daily commute.