Time Doesn't Turn Back

My daughter and I drove to Houston, TX where my sister and her family lives, along with both my parents who are now in a nursing home. I felt a need to get down there to see them. One or the other of them is in the hospital so frequently that I worry about the future. And although I speak to them on the phone regularly, I was a bit shocked when I arrived to see them.

We arrived late in the afternoon to my sister's and having driven the whole way on my own (with a stop at a motel one night), I was exhausted. We mostly relaxed and were happy to be out of the stifling humidity - can you say sauna? I'm not exaggerating, either. It was misty with humidity and heat. You sweat the moment you step outside and can't dry off after a shower. Rachel broke out in a heat rash that, now that we are home, is finally almost gone. She even got sick from dehydration because it's so wet, you don't realize you're thirsty. I don't know how they live in what my husband refers to as "the armpit of America". The next day, my nephew gave me his GPS and my brother-in-law input the address for me so I could get to my parent's nursing home. Dad wasn't there as he's been in the hospital. My younger nephew went with Rachel and I. We knocked, opened the door and there sat my very frail, wheelchair-bound mother with the phone she could not figure out how to dial in her lap. It was all I could do not to start crying right there. It has been three years since I last saw her and she has aged and looks so weak and small. Her hair is all white, like my grandmother's was. I hugged and kissed her and put the phone down on the table for her. We pulled chairs around her, Rachel and I holding her hands and started to talk. Mostly, she talked and I listened, knowing that what she was saying had jumbled stories in it, confusion of people and things she had hallucinated about. But I listened and nodded and said, "Really?" in all the right places. It was the same voice she has always had and I allowed its sound to sear into my mind. This was my mother. We stayed for several hours before the kids were clearly bored out of their minds. We meet some of her "friends" when we took her down for her dinner. We listened to her some more. After getting her back to her room, we left and I headed back to my sister's, really not able, emotionally, to stop in to see my dad this same day.

The next day, my brother, Kim, flew in and he and I went to see my mom and took her over to see my dad. This is no small feat. She cannot walk at all. We told her if she could stand and pivot so we could get her into the car, we could take her. And she did it.

They have been married for more than 63 years now. They met at 15 years of age and have been together since. They are attached in a way that makes separation very difficult and heart-wrenching for them.

I walked into Dad's room first. He was in his hospital bed, watching some kid's station on TV.

"Hi, Daddy," I said. He looked surprised and a big grin formed on his face. I took his hand, kissed him.

"What are you doing down here?" he asks. I feel a flood of relief. He knows who I am, something he didn't know for the first 15 minutes when I saw him three years ago when he was in Colorado to visit and they stayed with my brother, Kevin.

"I came to see you! And Mom. And guess what? I have someone else here with me who wants to see you." I step out of the way and Kim wheels my mother up to his bed. They have already locked eyes. They both tear up. There is no one else in the room for them. Just the two of them. I watch them speak softly to each other, sweet words that I hold in my heart to hear them say to each other.

I love you, I miss you so much, I've been looking for you everywhere - they say to each other. In their dementia-infested minds, being away from each other means they must search for each other. Then more - "I'll never let them separate us like this again." "No, Darlin', neither will I," he tells her. My brother and I watch, look at the TV, look at the watery eyes we each are trying to control. After some time, they talk to us a little. We "catch up" as best we can. We stay like this for four hours - my mother and father holding hands the entire time, looking into each other's eyes off and on and saying "I love you" and all of us talking some. My sister, her husband and boys and my daughter all arrive. We visit longer but then it is time to take my mother back to the nursing home. Away from him. It seems so cruel and yet necessary. They cannot reach each other to kiss, so they kiss each other's hands. My brother goes to my dad and holds his hand, kisses him and breaks down, keeping his head down for a long time. Dad is tired and he's dozing, so he doesn't really notice. I do. My mother does, too. We've seen my dad in the hospital far too often. The same thought runs through all of our minds, "How long will we have him? How long will my mother be able to bare it without him when he's gone?" It's my turn now. I think, I'll not cry. I'll hold it in until I'm back at Kandi's house and I can go into the bathroom and just let it out. But that doesn't happen. I kiss him again, holding his hand. I tell him I love him and for him to get well so he can be with Mom soon. He says he will. And he's improving, so I know it's true. We leave and get Mom settled back in her little one room apartment. My brother drives me back to my sister's and has to catch a flight back home for work. Recently, home has been Louisiana. We say our good-byes and the brother I haven't seen in about a year and a half leaves. I have my cry and then pull myself together.

My dad got out of the hospital the day before we left to come home but he didn't go back to the nursing home yet. He's in the rehab center, hopefully being released on Sunday to go back to my mother. The hard part is my parents don't get to see each other normally when one of them is in the hospital. Because neither of them walks, neither can really help move themselves from wheelchair to car. You have to lift them. My brother-in-law has serious back problems, caused by injuries he suffered as a soldier during the war in his country. My sister has very bad knees and a back problem (runs in the family). I couldn't take Mom on my own because of my own back problems, either. My brother, Kim, couldn't alone because he needs knee surgery and it could cause major damage lifting someone else. My brother, Kevin, had been down to visit with his family about a week before us. Despite a knee replacement and his own back issues, he was able, with difficulty, to get my mother there, but she is dead weight when she gets up. So until he is home from the rehab, they won't see each other again.

I did see both my parents, alone, for tearful good-byes before we left. My mom worries about me because of our financial situation with my husband's career ending health problems (though she's been told very little). My dad was just surprised when he asked when we'd come back and I told him probably not until next summer. I told him I love him and he said, "And I love my daugther, too". That....will stay with me.

Getting a Bad Rap

Israel gets a bad rap. In fact, throughout history, the Jewish people have been getting a bad rap all over the world. Not to mention appalling treatment. And now, the country that was once their ally, has turned their backs on them, too. Ah, Obamaland.

The latest is the situation with the so called "humanitarian" ship IHH, a Turkish based group, that has arisen. Watching NBC national news tonight, I saw nothing about what happened to the Israeli soldiers whose job it is to keep terrorist supporting groups out of the area. But here is the clip shown on CNN and FOX:




These are peaceful, humanitarians?!?!?!?!? What part of beating men with metal pipes and chairs and then throwing one off the ship (who has suffered permanent brain damage from the event, by the way) reads "peaceful" or "humanitarian" to you? Seriously? Are you blind?

Here are some facts for you:

Cypress refused to allow the IHH (or the Free Gaza ship), allegedly carrying humanitarian help, to dock in their country because of their "terrorist group connections". The French and Danish also have intelligence of their connection with (ie: THEY ARE) terrorists. So when Israel, in self defense and as a regular practice accepted by all the other ships that come in, tell them they need to board the ship and search for weapons, they are attacked. The Israeli's, to PROTECT themselves, shoot to stop the violence. And it works. Had the Israeli's boarded with metal pipes and chairs, I'm sure the IHH people on board would simply have been beaten, just the way they were beating the Israeli's. But, neither here nor there.

So what do you have to hide that incites you to beat these Israeli's if you are, indeed, humanitarian aide?

Well, now that's the million dollar question, isn't it?

Can you say Terrorist?

Since when does the U.S. condemn another country for protecting themselves from the constant and consistent terrorist attacks they suffer? Oh yeah, when Obamaland became our mantra. America? What have we become? In a word, Socialists. And I don't care who you are, that's not good for anyone.

Look around. FOX News, CNN News, Glen Beck, a Danish research institute (Danish Institute for International Studies) and the French intelligence reports and more will support the allegations of the terrorism. Even our CIA has investigated and come to the same conclusion.

Yet when the U.N. cannot come to terms with what actions to take against North Korea for torpedoing a South Korea ship, killing 46 on board, among others, they quickly form an emergency council to condemn Israel for protecting themselves. What a joke.

Even more so - What a shame.