Wednesday, March 2, 2011


My dad is in the hospital for the third time since November, and the seventh time in three years. He's 86, with several life threatening medical conditions. Of his three kids, I am the only one who lives close to him, so I am the designated point man for his care and assistance. This is a primary role for boomers these days, as our parents age and their health runs into the ditch.

I am happy to do this, and it's an honor and privilege to be there for the guy who nurtured and protected and encouraged me for all those years. But this privilege is not an easy one. There are times, sometimes extended times, in which everything else must stop, and my own priorities, goals, and ambitions take a back seat. This is one of those times.

Dad is in the hospital again, and might make it. His condition is more precarious this time than ever before. But he has bounced back every time so far, and I wouldn't want to bet against him. In the mean time I sit with him and sneak moments at Sally Loo's coffee house near the hospital to dash off an email or a blog entry when I can. But my studio is dark most of the time right now, and that's how it must be. 

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