These seven words were nearly the last Randy ever spoke.
You see, the time has finally come for my Dad to move in with us. Do we have room? No. Is his house sold, or even on the market? No. Is his house cleaned out and ready to sell? No. Did I ever get that storage unit in Kansas cleaned out for him? No. Will I be able to take time to go through the stuff with the rest of my siblings? No. Do I think they will do it without poking, prodding and fighting? No. Do I know in my heart of hearts this is the right thing to do and we’ll all be happier and sleep easier for it? Yes.
But as we are sitting at lunch today discussing the logistics of the move: the cleaning, sorting, selling the house, finding a truck, getting all that sh!t from point A to point B, building out a room in the garage, the need for a bathroom in the garage bedroom, the need for a BIGGER HOUSE, I am chanting my new mantra “It’ll be fiiiiiine.” I don’t know how many times I’ve said that in the past few weeks, but it has to be hundreds. Literally. Hundreds. And it will be fine. I am my mother’s daughter, after all. I’ll pretend it’s fine until it actually is. And Randy pops off with, “I don’t know what you’re stressing about.”
‘Scuse me?! Really?! Seriously?!
But alas, before my eyes popped all the way out of my head, he adds, “I’ll take a couple of vacation days, find a truck, borrow Thomas’ trailer, and go load everything up. Everything that is not out of the house, I’ll just bring back here and we’ll deal with it.”
Whew. That was close. I’m pretty sure his life flashed before his eyes at the look on my face, but as always, he said just what I needed to hear. It WILL be fine. I have him to support and love me (and Dad) and help me make it all come together. He always does. Thank God for him in my life. (Insert music clip here “God Bless the Broken Road.” Perfect, huh?)
Besides, when you start counting blessings in my neck of the woods, be prepared to take your shoes off. (Think about it.) Here are a couple of my little blessings just this morning:
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| This is my current favorite outfit...there's a bumblebee on the front pocket. |
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| Look at those eyes... |
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| They're oh-so-brave when their archenemy, the vacuum, is not plugged in! |
4 comments:
What kind of shape is your Dad in?
Does this mean I won't see your dad when I go to the store anymore!? Even though I know he looks at me like, which one are you! Your doing the right thing and am a awesome daughter! Let me know if you need any help, i live in salina and could help box things up or clean!
Whabby, he's actually doing fairly well, considering he was diagnosed with Non Hodgkins Lymphoma two years ago and had half a lung removed last fall. He's 80 and still working part time at WalMart. Just not financially making it, is a big factor. It could be way worse! lol
Robyn, that's so nice of you... I may have to take you up on it! We don't know how we're going to work it all out in the end. Even if I go up to help, I'm not sure how much help I'll be with 5 kids underfoot.
I'll also still have to bring him back to see Uncle Bob & Aunt Jo and for reunions and such.
good save, randy! LOL... he IS a great guy!
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