In The Middle of a Wind Storm

For a long while I’ve felt like my life is in the middle of a wind storm, ready to just pick me up and swirl me away.  Sometimes I’ve wished it would – some place where it’s calm and serene – where no one needs anything from me – where my mind can just not think instead of wondering and worrying and never stopping.

My step-father Frank, of Frank’s Fractured Fairytales, is finally in assisted living .  I no longer have to wonder if he has fallen and is laying on the floor hurt, or is confused and afraid, or is angry and doesn’t know why, or needs something and there is no one to get it for him.  No matter that it took nearly a year of pleading, arguing, and finally going to court to gain guardianship.  All of that doesn’t matter because I can finally breathe again.

I have learned more about North Carolina laws than I ever wanted to.  I have had to prove myself over and over again.  And never will be able to prove myself to his neighbors who think I’m just after his money (he has none) and his house (which will pay for the assisted living).  You have to develop a very hard shell when you’re going through these things and sometimes it just cracks wide open.  But then you have to plaster that crack back up and know that what you are doing is the right thing – or hope it is.  When Frank asks me the same questions over and over again within minutes, or I can see that he really doesn’t understand fully what is being said – I know I haven’t made a mistake.  And no matter what he’s said to me along the journey and perhaps that someday he won’t know who I am exactly, that’s OK because I know who he is in his heart.

The whirling storm is slowing and I know the calm is coming soon.