From an "unneeded" walker to a wheelchair: In just two days...

...Well, at least I think it's been two days?  Has it been two days?  Man.  I have totally lost track.  I feel like I'm on a tilt-a-whirl or something and just want to cry, or throw up, OR get off the damn thing. 

Dad's been having trouble even getting out of his recliner, but the past couple of days have been different.  His legs just won't work anymore and so getting anywhere in the house is almost impossible even with the help of a walker and someone's assistance.  Today while I was with him he wanted to go to the bathroom and so we set out in that direction.  Pretty quickly I realized that, even though I'm a strong girl, this was going to be no easy task.  We got as far as the little bathroom in his hallway and he basically collapsed without actually going down.  Between him clinging to the door jamb, sitting on my knee and me holding him up he was stabalized-ish.  But where do we go from there?  I stood praying someone would come in just at that moment, but they didn't.  I finally used my motherly strength to basically "lift the car off of my child" and got Dad onto the toilet in a bathroom about the size of a closet.  Thankfully we were able, with him holding my shoulders until we got back to the walker, get him safely back to the recliner.  Is this life?

Dad and I talked today about his final wishes.  And, true to himself, it will be a non-conventional celebration.  I asked him where his cremains would be placed...a small cemetary out towards Albany.  When I asked if that's where he wanted to be or if I should take him back to Wisconsin where he grew up and he said "This is my home.  This is where I grew up.  That's where I want to be.  Is that okay?"  Is that okay?  Of course it's okay Dad!  I just want him to be happy.  But I'm not going to say that I'm going to be more than a little devestated when it happens.  Is it weird for me to want a part of him?  To want some of his ashes for myself?  I asked him.  He laughed and said "What the hell would you do with them?!"  Hmmmm...I never thought of the answer to that.  Maybe carry him around in my purse?  I know that's weird, but to think that my dad, with whom I've NEVER gone more than two days of not speaking, won't be right next to me. 

I guess this is where I need to really start exploring something spiritual.  Not necessarily religious, but something that will keep my faith in my dad always walking with me.  Helping me make my decisions.  Smiling and laughing with me about silly things I think only "us Chandlers" get.  I can't even find words for the pain of the inability to be with my dad anytime I would like.

Lili