It was a whirlwind of activity when I arrived at my parents.  Mom's sister Rosetta was visiting and our CNA Mona was there as well.   My sister Kris was preparing to bake.  Shortly after I arrived, my other sister Lori and her hubby and daughter arrived.  It took us a while but we finally got things lined out enough to work on preparing a list of what is located where (finances and policies).  I'd tried doing this back in October when Dad first got sick but Mom's memory is impaired much of the time.  Literally I was being led by a blind woman and that wasn't too successful!  So between my parents and sisters, we were able to identify all the things needing identifying.  Dad was a sweet little old man laying on the sofa with his O2 and blankets.  Mom, more of a grumpy old bear, was getting accustomed to having the furniture rearranged in the den.  Seems her lift chair had been crimping Dad's O2 hose and when that happens, things get crazy!  For 2 years we tried to rearrange the room but they'd not have it.  Now it's just the way we tried to put it in the beginning.  But this is their idea so I think they'll be pleased.   Lori's daughter Abbie and my sister Kris commenced to baking and I was off to school for a meeting about our trip to the Peru dig site.

The UA Razorbacks were on tv last night.  I'd called to see how things were going.  Mom was in bed early as usual and Dad laying on the sofa watching the game.  He'd intended to move to the bedroom at halftime to watch the remainder of it in there.  Mom had other plans and found her way back to the living room so she could hold his hand a while. I think today it dawned on her that he may not be here in a week.

Why a week?  Wednesday, his little sickly lungs will be biopsied.   He's been told he has a malignant lung cancer that the precise type of cancer is unknown.  A PET scan won't help (though I offered to send my two adorable pooches to help) to determine the type of cancer.  Though he can't have radiation and likely wouldn't tolerate chemo, the only other option would be surgery and they advise against that as well.  But for his peace of mind, he wants to know what it is.  It has grown from 1" to 1.5" in diameter in just 5 weeks so it is fast growing for now -- whatever it is.  Lori asked Dad if he was certain he wanted this procedures which he'd originally declined.  He responded if he dies during the procedure, he won't know it happened and he'll have been sedated so it won't be painful (paraphrased here).  Logical again... but sad and scary too.

Today I hope to finish my research paper for Stats.  Abbie will be delivered to my house later today to chop/dice celery, onions, etc. and make cornbread.   But a quiet little goal of my own is to spend time writing  a death notice that will do my Dad a little more justice than the typical obituary.  After all, I know of no other man -- well one, Harry Neumeier who has now passed on -- who has devotedly cared for a very sick partner for 11 years.   Growing up, we had the greatest vacations and silly birthday parties.  My parents were terrific people and cared for everyone they met.  I remember transporting crash victims we'd encounter on our way on the old Highway 71 ...  taking them to hospitals and following up to see they were ok.  My parents were nurturers of everyone around them.  So in these last 11 years, when my mother was unable to do most everything for herself, it was dad that did the work for 2.  This past April when another stroke robbed my mother of her eyesight, it was my dad who became her eyes.  In 1961 at St. Boniface Catholic Church, when Father Peter asked them to pronounce their vows "For better, for worse, in sickness and health".... I'm sure they never knew what lay ahead.

For some reason, Garth Brooks song "The Dance' comes to mind when I think of their journey together.

Looking back on the memory of
The dance we shared beneath the stars above
For a moment all the world was right
How could I have known you'd ever say goodbye
And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss the dance
Holding you I held everything
For a moment wasn't I the king
But if I'd only known how the king would fall
Hey who's to say you know I might have changed it all
And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss the dance
Yes my life is better left to chance
I could have missed the pain but I'd of had to miss the dance.

The last dance they shared was at the wedding of Patricio and Jamie Kern Giovanni in August at that same church, St. Boniface.  There in the dimly lit parish hall, my Dad wheeled Mom out onto the dance floor and gently moved her to and fro while we daughters and husbands and our own little families, beamed and squealed and rallied around them.  The Dance.