God Save the Queen

There are very few words I have not yet exhausted to capture the chaos in which I live and love but I will tell you that my date last night also included stopping at CVS to buy Depends. Can you say sexy? The young woman who rang me up looked at my purchase and said “You know, it’s buy one get one half off.” to which I replied “I’ll be right back.” as I scurried to the back of the store to grab another package.

My instinct is to not tell you about the Depends, a minute piece of the equation here. There is so much shame wrapped up in those things and our bodily functions. However, I live in a household of six with one and a half baths and we can no longer hide our humanity from ourselves and all of you. And, a wet Depends got hurled from a bedroom into the hallway yesterday as Maire and I looked at one another on opposite sides of where it landed. She shrugged and I laughed because these are the days of our lives.

Dad has dementia and with that comes a lack of awareness that neither he nor we can control; it is a fact that requires the help of these wonderful inventions and he has accepted this transition with grace. He has always been an intensely private man and his willingness to accept help in this department was shocking to me at first. Although I am defensive of his privacy, I see his and our acceptance of this as brave and that rarely shared detail of aging should not be shrouded in shame. It is what it is and many of us will be there someday. This is uncharted territory for all of us and he is leading us in. I write truth, even the uncomfortable kind, and the truth of our family here involves Depends. So what? Moving on.

Mom comes home from the rehab facility today, having been delayed by a bout with Covid after already having pneumonia. The tank stared Covid down and did not fear but was certainly annoyed. “I’m fiiiiiiiiine” she told us. She has been chomping at the bit to come home; isolation in a rehab with bad food is just plain sucky and brought her to tears. When she gets home, I am bracing myself for her reaction to the changes here. A bedroom will be set up in our “dining room” within the next few hours. The reality is—stairs are just no longer safe for this dynamic duo. A first floor bedroom makes the most sense. This will certainly be a strange transition, fraught with confusion for Dad I’m sure. Send your thoughts and prayers our way today as my siblings and I prepare ourselves for the blowback.

I woke up around three this morning and heard an owl in our woods. I couldn’t fall back to sleep as my mind stumbled over the days’ plans. A gasp of breeze dropped in from the window above my bed and reminded me to take deep breaths and rest. After a week of teaching, I have already lost my voice and by Friday felt like a wet rag. I fell back to sleep and woke up feeling not necessarily refreshed but capable. I talked to Mom the other day and asked “Did you hear about the Queen?” to which she said “Of course I heard about the Queen. It’s been on all day. It even interrupted my story!” Apparently Elizabeth’s passing was more important than Days of our Lives. “This is all we’re going to be hearing about now.” she said. There is nothing better than straight up, unfiltered Mary Paulisms. All evidence to the contrary, the Queen is very much alive and well. Here, in her crazy little kingdom of kids, elders and in betweens, her throne awaits. God save this Queen and God help all of us when she sees her furniture moved.