Saying Goodbye To Dad

Saying goodbye to a parent is not fun, but is so important. My last phone call and real conversation with my Dad was on Wednesday afternoon.

It went something like this:

"Hi Dad, how are you?"

Muffled... "How are you? Are you all OK?"

"We're fine, Dad. How are you feeling?"

Progressively fading... "I thought I lost my eyeglasses, but they are in...."

"In your nightstand drawer, like I told you. You just didn't have them the two days you were in the hospital."

"Well, isn't that something?"

"I love you Dad. We'll be there to see you Saturday!"


"In my apartment in NY, Dad."

"WHERE ARE YOU? MILLIE..." Phone drops into lap.

Suddenly I realize he is no longer talking to me, but to my dead mother.

I called his hospice nurse, Chris. "Is he eating? He sounds scared, confused. Why is he in a wheelchair sitting in the hallway when he has fallen out of the chair or bed nine times in the past 11 days? Why is he sitting in the dining room for dinner when he's not eating?"

Yesterday morning Chris went to see Dad. Only semi-responsive and only talking now to Mom on other side. Ordered bed rest only with discontinuation of all meds except Atavan and Oxycodone, so he can rest and is not in pain.

We will go tomorrow to say goodbye to Dad.

We said goodbye to Mom on September 7. Mom died September 9.

End of life sucks, but if you have no plans in place you should get on that. Seriously. Otherwise you will be stuck in a system where you have no control over how you live and die in your last years.

My Dad advocated for my bipolar mother consistently for 50 years. I now advocate for him.

In fact, I will probably be arguing his third stage Medicare appeal after he is buried, since the timeline is backed up due to the government shutdown.

So not fun!

2013 So Far

2013 so far has been, as my mother (may she rest in peace) would say, "quite the year." Professionally it has been great, with new pilates clients, better cash flow, publishing hubby's first Zombie novella (Zombie Killing Stoners), and more opportunities all around. Personally it has been spotty at best.

Don't get me wrong, hubby and I are great, and Smiley is always wonderful.


So what's been getting me down?

July 1 I injured my left big toe. By injured, I mean crushed to bits. I spent 13 weeks in a big cam walker boot, and now am relegated to rocker bottom shoes (Dansko, Skechers' Shape Up, Reebok Tone Walker). In addition, I have been using a bone stimulator device for 6 weeks and have 7 more to go.

My 87 year old father fell and broke his hip August 2. Then, my 81 year old mother died on September 9. She had severe dementia, and we hadn't really spoke in about eight years, but that didn't make it any easier.

I was unprepared for the grief.

And now my dear dad is in hospice care, as his entire physical and emotional will to live went when mom passed.

It's been a tough one.

But I am strong, resilient, and loved. I have great friends and a wonderful family.

I am, and will be, fine. Even when I am not so great.


Hubby Caught A Purse Snatcher


My Hero Hubby Caught a Purse Snatcher at South Street Seaport on 9/11!

South Street Seaport

We took the Smiley dog out for her walk on the evening of 9/11, and took Fulton street towards South, turning onto Front Street by the Coach store. This Asian kid holding a purse ran towards us with a guy in a suit behind him shouting, "Stop him! He stole someone's purse." Hubby threw me Smiley's leash, and when the kid saw the dog he dropped the bag right in front of me and kept going, with Hubby leading the chase. Another guy came up and when he saw I had the bag, joined the chase.

The woman whose bag it was came running up and I told her that I had her bag. She was distraught, but felt better when she checked the bag and everything was there. She told me that she had been laid off that afternoon and went to sit by the water and compose herself before taking the PATH train home to NJ. This robbery was the icing on the cake, and she was so happy to get her bag back. As I put my arm around her, we heard applause.

Around the corner on Fulton came hubby and the suit along with the kid who stole the bag, an FDNY guy, and two security guards. My 57 year old hubby chased the kid around the block, and when he hesitated (a limo driver turned away from his car to see what was happening) hubby pushed him into a wall and held him until the neighborhood fire guy showed up, congratulated hubby, and grabbed the kid to hold until the police arrived.

The cops came quickly, took statements, assessed the situation, and said that they were so happy because they never catch these purse snatching mules, young illegal Chinese kids working off their travel forever for the Chinatown gangs. Seriously, this kid was young and clearly terrified, with no ID and a throwaway cell phone. We didn't even have to give statements because only the guy in the suit actually saw the crime happen.

Sad to say that this kid will probably be bailed out, have the bail added to his tab, take a beating, and be back out stealing purses in a day or so.

Just another day in the FIDI. Good thing hubby does cardio (thanks Robert Brace's 28 Day Challenge)! The funny thing was that everyone else was either huffing and puffing or making lame excuses for why they couldn't run. Even the young kids. Hubby didn't even sweat. He wasn't even breathing hard!

I am so proud of him!!