There’s a toll to feeling on edge every moment of every day. From first waking in the pre-dawn hours to that final moment before falling back to sleep in the evening darkness, every single moment feels like it is lived on that edge.
This is life with a parent on hospice.
Dad has good days and bad days, or perhaps I should say good hours in the day and some that are not good. He still enjoys participating in the activities in his assisted living apartment house (a place I have often characterized as a cruise ship on land). He also sleeps much of each day. I spend a lot of time thinking about how he is doing when I’m not there visiting.
Phone calls come in from the staff. Every time I see that number on caller id I am gripped with apprehension. Most of the staff has learned…
View original post 612 more words