Resting Comfortably

You know what's odd? Or funny, or weird, may be more like it -- is when I hear a complaint that "You haven't posted since Sunday....what's up?" I guess one never really knows what kind of stalkerish-personage is actually keeping tabs. So, an update on father in law. He has opted out of any invasive, aggressive testing and all of that. The hospital was discussing a bone marrow biopsy and another CT scan of sorts and do you want CPR and do you want this and that. "Nope. No thank you. I'm exhausted," were his answers. He's 83. He's had a good life. From being born in Evanston, Illinois, and his father being a professor of Economics at Northwestern University to growing up and going to Ohio State University in Columbus, to being an on-air radio DJ for the campus radio station in the 1940s, to moving his wife out to Southern California where he raised his three boys along the coast. He retired from the commercial paint business in 1986 and left the business of SoCal to move up to the Central Coast of California where they lived until "You forced us up to live in Portland" about six years ago. To keep a closer eye. To have a better grasp. To deal with this and that. A bit more easily for us. So, all of that to say that he's had it. He wants to be comfortable. That's it. He has a feeding tube from his inability to raise up his hands too well. And his struggling ability to even swallow. And so, today, he moves to a skilled nursing care facility not so far from our home. He likes me. And I, him. I've said before, that we understand one another. We're sort of kindred spirits. We share some common beliefs and traits. And one of those is that we're realists....to a fault many times. We believe in black and white. We believe that in spite of what we hope, we often know the truth. And that reality will prevail.