Sad news

As I was packing with some interference from Patches the cat and printing out my boarding pass, my brother, Bill called to say that our Dad's condition has worsened...that he has been diagnosed with "terminal agitation." They are giving him morphine every 2 hours and Haldol. Terri, our stepmother asked Bill to call all of us. He is dying, that is certain, but exactly when, no one knows. I cried, tried to figure out what to do.

The fact is that our family is incredibly spread out. There is an upside to this--we are passionate about what we do, we live interesting lives--I think in some ways our children are living out our fantasies in going to live and travel in wonderful places. Our parents were the same way. My father chose to leave Cleveland and go to the Naval Academy--the only one of the 6 children who went further than Columbus, Ohio. He was 18 years old, I think, when he and his mother arrived in Annapolis, Maryland with no money and no place to stay. They went to the local Catholic Church and introduced themselves. A nice family who lived next to St. Mary's Church put them up. Alan's parents left Chicago for California. Maybe it's in our genes to be dissatisfied, to want to explore. But now it seems so difficult.

I made the decision last April, after flying back to New Jersey several times in a few months--made the decision to go to Vienna and see Maggie in September and to go to Boston and help Rachel move into her new apartment in August. I knew if I did these 2 things I wouldn't have the time or money to go to New Jersey until October. But it had gotten harder and harder to be there. We couldn't stay at the house anymore and so the visits became more formal and more exhausting for all of us. And I felt that if I kept going so frequently to New Jersey I would not be able to see Rachel and Maggie at all.

Today I cried and tried to figure out what to do--I decided to continue to Vienna to see Maggie, that if bad news is going to come, we should be together. When my Dad dies, I hope I will be able to hold my 2 girls and Alan. But we don't know how it will all play out. How do I know what is best? I don't. But right now, I'm going to Vienna. As I sat on the subway at the airport, I realized that as the plane flies west, I will be going as fast as possible directly away from him. It has meant so much to me to have been able to physically care for him on my visits. Part of me longs to see him and touch him. As he lies in his bed struggling, my heart is with him, but this seems best. I think.