One always wonders what's just around the bend. My parents grow old and I covet the time left to know them, love and care for them - now that it's come to that time in all our lives. O reversal of days - that we should end up carrying the ones who have carried us.
My mother is doing so well, younger even, her years extended I'm sure by living with my sister, Beth - sleeping each night in a condo bedroom scarcely 100 yards from the place she was born, nearly 86 years ago on Great-Grandpa Almas' farm.
Every blood transfusion my father receives (3 bottles yesterday since his haemoglobin was down to 69) perks him up for several weeks - with new and rich supply of oxygen to the brain. So that he knows me - almost, though sometimes still mistakenly calling me 'Bert' - thinking of his much loved, but now departed brother. Still, in one way, a Christian way, I suppose I am brother to my Dad.
And so I pray, wait, hold and hold-on, whenever the visit may be possible, fighting what seems now to be a jangled mix of so many irrelevant, though once-thought important, demands upon my energies and time.
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