4:00 a.m.

I’ve been waking up lately at the same time each day. I do this often for days in a row and I can’t explain why. However, I can tell you that I love it. It’s a peaceful time for me. It’s alone time. Coffee in hand and silly iPhone games. It’s a time for my brain to chill and perceive, perceive absolutely nothing.

My father’s illness has many “faces” I guess you could say. When you add in the fact that he’s diabetic and has AFIB, its disastrous. Quite frankly put, I have no idea how he’s survived this life thus far. It has to be excruciating inside his brain. I wouldn’t wish this illness on anyone.

Since the Christmas Eve episode, my father has been waking up everyday as if he’s gone back in time to the realm of infant age. He’s gone from dancing around, making jokes, singing to moaning with each movement of his body. We’ve watched him barely be able to stand at some points. The crazy thing about witnessing this is that, we as outsiders, can see that nothing has changed. His environment is exactly the same. His physicality is all based in his brain. It’s rather fascinating, isn’t it? 

It’s probably the fact that I’ve been awake since 4:00, and I’m on my 4th cup of coffee, but I’m ramped. I can’t stop thinking. Thinking, thinking, thinking.

My ex-stepmom called me yesterday (or maybe a few days ago), and she told me something that’s a bit of an epiphany. She said, “don’t lose your identity”. Whoa. 

Whilst I’m telling my father I need to visit my only living grandmother who is 5 hours away and his response to me is, “what will I do about lunch?”, I did lose it. I felt sudden blame and shame and disgust that I’d even think about doing that. Whoa, again. I lost my identity. She had a valid point. I can’t lose that. For if I lose that, my brain will eventually go to “The Nothing” place as my father has called his existence. I kind of felt myself turning on the road it takes to get there on Christmas Eve. Stop it, Chantel. Do not go there. 

I have many other things going on besides my father “living” here. I have a son who just last night had 4 boys all the ages of 15 and 16 stay over. They are all into skateboarding, eating and slamming every cabinet or door they can come across. My son needs to drive more for his license that’s creeping up on us. 

I have an 18 year old daughter trying to make her plan of action in regards to the next step she takes in her newly found adult world. College, apartments, career path, ugh. 

My kids have a father who doesn’t seem to be on the same page of the parenting book that I’m on. Just this morning I asked him what his plans for Seth was going to be on NYE and he stated that Seth is old enough not to have to see him on NYE and that he’d just wait until the next weekend for his weekend to see him. Wait… This IS your weekend to see him. He’s oblivious. I have a calendar, perhaps I will buy him one. 

I have a husband who has ADHD and albeit I have mucho amounts of patience for my father, I will admit that ADHD drives me insane. Add his PTSD from being a combat veteran in there too. I love him so much that even thinking about how impatient I’ve been with him in the past makes me cringe. He’s the most loyal, calm, understanding man I’ve ever come across. He recently curled my hair for me because I had a fit over it. Sounds dumb, I know… But he made me feel like a queen and all was right with the world again.

My puppy chewed up my carpet that I paid 8 grand for. My dishwasher overflowed last night at 11:00. My father couldn’t cut his butter this morning to add into his oats I fixed him. As the song goes, that’s life… That’s just the way it is. I can bitch and complain all day long, but there’s not one solution I can come up with. I asked for this. I brought my father into my home on my own willingness. I don’t regret it one bit. Life flows and then it turns and zig zags for everyone. I’m not one bit special… And my father did not make anything that goes wrong happen. He’s unaware of anything I might be frustrated over. He’s eating and he’s being cared for and that is all that matters and just when I feel like I don’t matter, he says, “Chan, I need you.” I matter, after all. 

This post started at 4:12 in the morning and I’m finally finishing it at 8:51. I get there… Eventually.

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