I am in Denver for a conference, and I call Mom every day. Daddy had been released to rehab after a trans-aortic valve replacement but is back in the hospital, this time with infection and sepsis, our old friend. She hands him the phone, telling him I'm in Denver and he asks if I've brought my skis - the same joke each day I've been here. He is surprised each day when I tell him it's 85 degrees, warmer than California. He has gotten more belligerent and now less again. He has gotten a lot worse and a little better. He can walk with a walker. Mom just wants him home, so she will stop being woken up by phone calls at 1am, 3am, 5am. So she can sleep more, sleep better. So she can rest. "I just want it to be over" she says, and I know how she feels, even though we don't acknowledge one of the tacit implications of that statement.
We are setting the foundation for going back East. It is too hard to be so far.
