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I took my parents shopping yesterday. It was fine. Which was a relief. Because someone at the Senior Day Care (where my Dad goes three days a week for physical therapy, all of his medical care, and escape) called me Wednesday to ask me if I knew if my Dad was okay.

It was the day that I called my Dad and he had to hang up because he and my Mom were apparently having an argument- one of those no one win discussions, where my mom berates him for everything. Literally. Everything.  This includes her life,  the Korean war, the weather, his stroke, my sister dying, their apartment. Apparently things got so bad, my Dad called his Senior Day Care in a bit of a panic and they sent over someone to pick him up. I don’t know exactly what that means. I think it means that he was either scared that my mom might pick up a frying pan and hit him or that he had simply had enough and maybe he was going to be the frying pan wielding person in their relationship. When they got there, he acted like he didn’t call. Which sounds like exactly what someone in an abusive relationship would do. Because he’s scared of my mom.

Every time I think my head and heart are at capacity–I am incorrect. I wonder if its because  after my Dad had his stroke and I had gone through a few kooky/trying episodes with my mom and had managed to survive- I felt like a muscle I had never used kept getting stronger and stronger! I started thinking and saying that I had finally learned to be patient. Then I read that you shouldn’t get too gloat-y about finally learning patience, because then God and/or the Universe will sock it to you.  And so it is.

Everything seemed to be fine. I tried to quietly ask my Dad if he was okay and he kept saying he was. But there was distance. But he’s like that sometimes.  My mom seemed fine. She also kind of apologized for her brain being crazy. I will continue to monitor the situation.

When we got back to my parent’s house, they were opening their mail and my Dad opened the cable bill. Xfinity. It was four hundred and fifty three dollars.  There was a pay-per-view boxing match and a season of MLB added. Plus a few movies. I called and was a belligerent asshole. Which I felt terrible about. Anger at the world dumped on some poor, unsuspecting customer service representative. After about 10 minutes, I realized what I was doing- I slowed my roll, retrenched and ended the call.I’ll try again on Monday. And then I will take my daughter to their apartment to put blocks on all pay-per-view channels.

One million sighs.

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