So Bubbey is still back East. He has been doing EVERYTHING there. His mom is still in the rehab hospital: she’s making decent progress with variations day to day, which is probably to be expected. The therapists indicated that she and my FIL are not suited to continue living on their own. Naturally, that triggered a cascade of events and lengthy conversations. J, his sister, and dad scouted out facilities and checked availability. At the same time, nearly each of the five kids individually chipped away at the parents, who adamantly refused to believe the necessity of this next step. After two weeks, they put down a deposit on a place. All the while, J is continuing daily trips to the hospital, meal prep for dad, de-cluttering, organizing, and now packing for the move. Eldercare is no fucking games. Looking back, I dunno what either of us were thinking. In our minds, we had some idea that we would be next to a sleeping patient, and we’d be able to crank out a shit ton of work. In reality, the patients were unruly and/or chatty and required constant attention.

I’m doing ok holding down the fort at home. Marty is getting particularly sticky again, but the good news is that he really is full of energy. For once in a really long while, I feel like I can at least stop worrying about Marty and his mortality. For now.