Yesterday when Al came home and I took him off the bus;  he was in a good mood. He chatted… http://wp.me/s2g4Y2-24251

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Daily Prompt; Pat On The Back

http://dailypost.wordpress.com, DP, Daily Prompt

Tell someone you’re proud of just how proud you are.

 

Photographers, artists, poets: show us SUCCESS.

I sat here staring at the word proud. I was thinking to what am I proud of. The biggest thing that I don’t take credit in is myself. I am not really proud of anything I do or don’t do. I don’t think it is because I don’t want to be, I don’t know how to be.

When someone gives me a pat on the back I immediately blush, wanting to run and hide. Not sure as to why they are saying these silly words to me. For I have done nothing magnificent in this world.

I always think I am not the President, I have not created any brilliant items that can be found on infomercials. I am just me, a caregiver. There is so much more glamor out in the world to be patted for.

Very often I hear words from WP bloggers stating what a good job I do with my brother. I appreciate these kind words, but can always feel my cheeks turning red.

I love my brother, this is why I take good care of him. Also God has allowed me to do this for Al. He has arranged my life so that I am able to. He has provided every single thing I could possibly need to be here for Al.

I always feel if I have a roof over my head, food on the table I am alright. If my bills are paid and Al has what he needs; what else can I possibly need.

Wants and desires are a whole different angle to look at. I desire and want plenty. Just like anyone else. Some days I am blessed with a gift, a surprise straight from God. Some of those desires become reality.

So in the end, I will let you continue to give the pats on the backs. I will continue to feel honored to have so many wonderful friends and supporters on Facebook and WordPress.

I only do what I know how because I love you Al and I love my friends.

 

 

Frank Sinatra, New York, New York

Frank Sinatra, New York, New York.

Not a Good Morning

Yesterday when Al came home and I took him off the bus;  he was in a good mood. He chatted during supper. After he was finished he read his first card from Melanie R. from Maryland. It was so adorable. It had a photo of her and her cute dog. Also there was a photo of her cat. The card was adorable.

I didn’t realize that Al could not see very well any longer. I knew he was having issues, but I didn’t realize it had gone this far. I felt so sad inside, but read him the card and put a magnifying glass in front of him so he could see the photos. He smiled so I want to give a big cyber hug and thanks to Melanie for making his day.

The evening went well and then right before I placed him in bed, the illness showed its snake tongue.

His nice personality went from nice to naughty. He was having problems with the buttons on the TV remote again, so I was helping him. He then went on to blame himself, curse the illness and cry.

I was forced to get him one of his pills so  he would have some sort of peaceful night. After taking the pill and tucking him in, saying I love you, I turned the lights off and came out to the living room where my good friend the computer sits.

I could hear Al cussing me out. I am not sure why but this went on from cursing me to his disease and to the TV remote. Finally the pill took effect and I then went to bed.

This morning was no better. He said that he had a bad dream. He went on to say, ” mom and dad had a program and they wanted me to do something in it. I tried but I couldn’t do it.”

I asked him, “did either of them get upset with you?”

“No, they didn’t get mad, I was sad because I couldn’t do what they asked.”

I explained about the illness and what it is doing to his body. I told him that his lack of walking, tremors, bad eyes, that it is all due to the illness and nothing that he did. He and I talked about this during his wash-up time.

At the breakfast table he could not swallow his morning medications. One by one pill dipped in applesauce I got them in his mouth, but then he could not swallow his orange juice.

I was beginning to panic a little. I had him take a bite of his french toast and then chew that the best he could and then take another swallow of juice. He finally got that all down. When it came time to take a bite of his breakfast sausage, he chewed it to death. He didn’t swallow it. Once again we went through the slow motion and I stayed by his side during the meal in case I had to save him from choking.

He cried and cried. I tried to talk to him about the good things he can still do, but his mind just wasn’t willing to accept anything I said. I brushed his teeth for him and cleaned him up and then when it was time to get on the bus, he was still crying.

The bus driver looked at Al and without any cue from me patted Al on the shoulder and said, “let’s go pick up those ornery girls next. You and I can pick on them.”

I thanked him for his words, both of us hoping that the girls would take his mind off his illness.

FYI

If you want to send Al a card to uplift his day, please email me at

tellmenolies2004@yahoo.com

for our address.