Progress Review

I've sat in many construction progress meetings to discuss coordination details, timelines, deadlines. Who knew this experience would come in handy when dealing with dad... as we indeed sat down today for a progress review. And just like a construction meeting, deadlines weren't quite being met. Though if everyone pulled together, and nothing else went wrong... the target date could be readjusted slightly and everyone would be happy. Today's update is that dad is slowly improving, now that they've got the meds straightened out. He was up on the platform today... not sure I understand what that is, but they've got him standing up at any rate. He's a few days behind what they had hoped him to be at in his progression... but the poor guy has had a few knocks, so we'll give him a break. It sounds like he'll be in the hospital, rehabilitating, till we leave.

Which means, I have to rebook flight tickets, postpone the movers, tweak some things here, adjust some things there. It's nice to have some breathing space, as I had been wondering how everything was going to be finished in such a short amount of time. There are people we want to see before we leave, and we can work that in to the new schedule. I had chosen a tight schedule from the time we found out dad was clear to go, as I wanted to leave before he had a fall. Well... he certainly squashed those plans like a bug. So on to Plan A, Revision 1. (We're not slipping onto Plan B yet. We're not even thinking about Plan B!)

On the recommendation of the social worker, this week is all about getting dad's apartment ready to sell. "It will give you something to do, to keep your mind off other things." Smart woman. Cleaning is my therapy... and you should see those tile floors sparkle! Again, I'm using humor to mask my sadness. Sadness at moving out the kitchen table where so many meals were shared with dad... and mom... and the rest of the family. Badgering and teasing one another, always with dad onto us to "keep it down." Lots of memories to sift through as I make the final push with clearing the place out. I know this was always the plan, certainly before dad even ended up in hospital, this was the path I was working on. Without him in the blue chair, keeping an eye on what I was throwing out, makes it all the more real.

I lamented as much to my brother, who was at dad's to pick up some things. "Yes Donna, it's a bit sad, but think of what you're going on to. You're going to Australia."

I'm going to Australia, yes, indeed. Somehow I've forgotten that in the midst of all this crazy. I am going to Australia. I will melt into a puddle in the middle of the beach when I finally get there. For now, there's a fridge that needs a good cleaning...