So, this weekend was set in stone a long while ago: I was going to record music, work on music, write music. With the exception of a family emergency, pretty much nothing was stopping me.
So, it was with no sense of irony that, when I got a call from my cousin’s wife (they live right next to my Dad), I sort of wondered…ugh.
Fortunately, while it wasn’t bad news, it wasn’t great either. Dad (who’s the ripe old age of 76) took a tumble in his bathroom. Broke his wrist, strained some knee ligaments, and had a big old goose egg on his head.
Since he’s old and sort of the curmudgeon type, he has someone clean his place once a week. He lives in the middle of Oklahoma on an 80 acre wheat farm. Anyway, the maid mopped his bathroom floor, and well, slip to my darling shoe fly shoe.
Since he has no one to take care of him, he’s staying in the nursing home in town.
It’s crazy though: when you get a call from an older parent, or a grandparent, you start thinking to yourself. I remember seeing the call come in. I looked outside, and saw the grey fog hang over my earling Saturday morning. I sat down and thought, “Is today the day?” Because, when they start getting up there, you just never know, you know?
Anyone else have older parents, or grandparents?
