My dad is still doing okay, getting stronger I think, but I sense a bit of depression in him about where he is at now, in the rehab center. I keep poking him to eat more so he can be sprung from the joint. Meanwhile, I've been sorting my spare bedroom (aka the junk and craft room) into a semi-permanent place for Dad. We're all going to have be watched a little closer; and that's just as well, I need someone to cook supper for and he needs someone to eat with. We'll see how it goes.
As if the sorting and moving and cleansing of the "craft" room isn't enough, I've been rerouted at work into a new location, which has been stressful for me, mostly because I take it personally that I'm being shoved out of one spot and being shoved into another, where I'm not really wanted either. My allies say I'm being punished; my supervisors say there was no other options available to them; and I keep looking on the job postings site because this is nothing if not a motivation to get the hell out of here. Today's Wednesday--I should pick up a paper.
I love books--so having to pare down my books because after moving them last weekend, I was very adamant that I was going to pare the damned things down to "KEEPERS" (and possibly the TBR pile). Those previously shelved "keepers" which I deemed unlikely to read again, et al, were ruthlessly tossed into boxes. I hope someone loves the stories as much as I did, but stories are meant to be shared. Don't worry, plenty of books remain...and I'm sure any shelf space I got back will be taken back over. Although yesterday, I bought three Kindle books because a) they were cheaper and b) I didn't have to find them a shelf. I don't see myself ever being a sole Kindle librarian (no paper at all), but I see myself getting more and more into it.
Lastly, my best friend, the one I've known the longest and best, her daddy died last Friday. He was a Johnny Cash of a man: big, bold, rumbling, and protective. He was funny and a merrymaker; he wasn't a complainer about work or his health--maybe the occasional politician, but who isn't? He was ornery as hell--and he loved being known for it. He loved bluegrass and fixing cars and singing and gardening and cooking...and just being a daddy. He was a daddy to those of us who already had daddies but watched us when our daddies weren't here to watch over us. He could be aggravating--as everyone can be--but he was a man you couldn't help but love and respect, and we did. We love and respect that man to heaven and back. I'm going to miss like hell him calling me "Red" and giving me shit about my driving. The world is less without him.
So much has happened in this past week, so much change and sadness. Hug everyone a little tighter, tell them you love them, listen to their stories because you never know when you may not get to again. The deaths of Robin Williams and Lauren Bacall also have affected me deeply--as well as the death of James Garner a few weeks previous. So many wonderful, bright and shining lights.