Parents are NOT Forever

For those of you who have lost your fathers or father figures in the time we've been friends, colleagues, neighbors, teacher-student, know that I've been learning, observing, tucking away pieces of advice from conversations and posts of the ordinary details of life without these people. So, it was no surprise to me that you were there in the form of compassion and gratitude with my parents this weekend. Instead of judging or demanding recourse, I am treasuring every moment, especially with this man. Feeling so much tenderness as his health declines. Yes, we've had enough conflict to last many lifetimes. But we haven't given up on each other. Life is so short. Thank you, thank you. #parentsarentforever. #onetoughguy

EDIT: It was not lost upon me that my decision to be an advanced practice nurse instead of a doctor is why I could do hands on wound care at the old PEG site or use the most effective vocabulary to get a busy nurse coordinator to return a message this weekend. My Dad was originally hugely disappointed I didn't want to be an MD. "You're smart enough to be a doctor, why would you want to be a nurse, take orders, and get paid less?" is something I heard as recently as 5 years ago. It was also his dream to be a doctor. He got into med school but couldn't afford the tuition, so he became an engineer (on a scholarship) instead. I was tempted to reference this irony while I changed his dressings. But I didn't. He was so grateful. He may even have been a tad bit impressed. He's always loved that I care for immigrant families and others without insurance--he was my first "health care is a human right" teacher. #myfathersdaughter