My much-beloved father is gravely ill. Bill and I were over to visit yesterday, arriving not long after the hospice people left. I guess that says all there is to say at this point. Dad's been struggling with prostate cancer for almost 5 years. And the past few months have been hard--for everyone.
I guess everyone has their coping techniques... some people like long walks. Some meditate. Some shop. Some drink. I knit. Some people want not to think... but I need to channel that nervous energy, distract myself... fingering weight fair isle vest with steeks... in shades of blue and gray like a November sky, adorned with snowflakes. When I realized I was up at 5 a.m. and there was no way I was going to get back to sleep, it seemed like a good idea to really get down to it.
Wish us all well. Grant us peace and patience.
Ta.
Anne
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