Confessions of a Liberal Puritan

I'm feeling less guilty about having been stupid enough or macho enough or vain enough to try to make that drive last Wednesday (the one which ended so ignominiously with my car being smashed up by an out-of-control SUV less than 3 hours into my journey).

Not only did Dad come home from the hospital Christmas Day with very limited mobility (so far -- but we're making him do his exercises, as much as possible), but Mom slipped and fell in the hospital early last week, and after all the exertions of getting Dad moved home, she woke up yesterday in extreme pain and barely able to move (going back to the doctor tomorrow, just to make sure there's no complications previously undetected).

So, both my parents stayed home from church yesterday morning for the first time in my memory. And I made them lunch and brought it to them, where they sat. This morning, after they managed to drag themselves downstairs to the dining room, they needed me to bring them their cereal and milk and such. After that, I got to drive Dad to his first out-patient physical therapy appointment, then take him across town to get blood drawn to check on his blood-thinner, and pick up his prescription. In a few minutes, I'll be going downstairs to whip up something for supper.

So, I'm basking in the warm glow that comes from feeling needed (especially by the people who've persistently tried to take care of me for over 40 years).

Lest anyone think I'm getting no "fun" time, I did take time this noon to go to a showing of Phantom of the Opera with my sister on the biggest movie screen we could find in the Milwaukee area. We loved it!

Sister had never heard the music before (she's a big Gerard Butler fan, though), and I'd only read the libretto and listened to the Broadway cast recording. Even knowing as much as I did, I couldn't drag myself away from the screen long enough to go to the bathroom (even though I became aware during the opening scenes that the super-large-size soda after a morning of being too busy to go to the loo had NOT been a good idea!). I had to "hold it" for two hours, but it was worth it. And Sister was so moved (being undistracted by any urgent bladder concerns) that she was weeping copiously by the end, and even buried her face in my shoulder for solace at the conclusion of the final scene with Christine and the Phantom.

And that's all I'll say, to avoid any hint of Spoilage.