It’s over, for now. I’m home alone. I no longer have to tiptoe around my house at night, or early in the morning, or in the afternoon when Dad takes his naps, the ones he swore he doesn’t take. The contractors will be here at some point to put the house back together. I told the therapist I would start with him again, but I don’t want to anymore. I do want to keep going to my Alzheimer’s support group. And start seeing my friends again.
I hope Dad brings a structure to my brother’s lifestyle, and that this time together is helpful for both of them. I sent an email to my younger brother, wishing him well and hoping he comes around. I’m going to visit my mother this weekend. I want to see what progress the farm workers made on her property and how the land is healing after the fire. I’ll go early because I’m going to check into the hotel later. This is me letting go of my family, but staying connected. Life is full of paradoxes.
I’m going to start going to my writers workshop group again, even if I don’t take anything to share. I’m going to start practicing piano again. Care for my gardens. Get back on my yoga mat. Do what I can to create as many neural networks in my brain so that when I lose a few, there will be enough redundancies for backup. I don’t know if I’ll keep updating this blog, but I’ve enjoyed documenting my daily life. Maybe I’ll start making Dad’s purple juice as an experiment, and document how I feel each day. I’m sure he’d appreciate that.
Epilog 