My brother is worse now than earlier today. He is hateful and mean. He told the aide that there was urine all over the floor. She and I checked but saw nothing. He was angry at his wheelchair. He was angry at everything, even life.
In the two hours I was there over supper I heard him talking about guns and death. He said he wished he was dead. I let everything I ever learn slip out of my right mind, as I sat in terror wondering where Al was in his mind.
I had even stopped at his old place at work, and chatted with his old boss. He gave me a hat and shirt to take to Al. I just knew that would make a world of difference. He gave me the tiniest of smiles but that was it. He didn’t want to try the hat on or even hold it.
His head was about an inch from his plate. He seemed so weak, or tired or, oh crap, I don’t even know what the word is, different.
I am afraid for my brother, I can’t lie and try to make you believe that I just know everything is going to be alright, because I don’t.
I wonder where Al is in his mind. I saw glimpses but then he would disappear. I was a rattlesnake. My mouth hissed words out so fast. I know I was a rambling idiot, but evidently my fear was bigger than life at this time.
I came home and took a shower. I looked at all the crap back in my living room. The sale was a flop. I had like five people stop. Never again, or not for a long time will I have a sale. I donated Al’s too big clothing and a lot of my clothes to a shelter for men/ women about half an hour a way.
Someone can get use out of these. Right now I wish I could donate everything that reminds me of Mom, Dad, Al, myself and Parkinson’s. I am not depressed, I am scared, and partially numb.
I am waiting on a call from the nursing home, as they have given Al more than ample hours to act more like himself, but he didn’t make the mark.
Oh, Al, where are you baby brother…………