My head hurts and my mind is racing. Dealing with stuff I cannot put out there, but isn’t that the case often times. I say what I can on here, but in order to protect my family’s privacy keep it guarded. Dealing with the elderly every week now, it breaks my heart to see how much abuse and neglect goes on. People raise their kids and as they finally are in their prime, start to find themselves having trouble with day to day needs they always did themselves. Maybe they cannot afford a fancy retirement apartment, but cannot climb their stairs anymore either. How will they afford a stair lift? They have a walker, but the house isn’t handicap assessible. They can’t raise their arms to wash their hair in the shower. Thinking about my parents while I’m taking care of other people’s. Will they tell my brothers and I when they need help? Most don’t want to be a bother. A person with memory trouble is aware while being unaware. They know they can’t remember. It makes them vulnerable. They didn’t get dumb. Compassion, love, and respect, WOW... don’t we all need that. Why should growing old change that? If you have an aging parent, give them a call once in awhile. Check in. Make sure they are okay. If you have elderly friends whose family is far away, offer to check in. Let them have dinner with you sometime. They love animals and kids. Bring in the joy and maybe some will rub off.
As a kid I watched my parents fight about different things. I don't really have any other parents to compare them to so I can't really say whether they were normal fights couples have or not. I couldn't even say what most of them were about except the ones that were about me. We only ate as a family on holidays. My father came home late so we kids ate without him. I do remember spending time with him in the evening before I went to bed so it couldn't have been that late. My own husband gets home a little later because of his job commute so we eat late every night. But home schooling has given us the ability to be more flexible than my Mom was able to be. We had school early the next day. As I got older, I remember my Father being home less and less and the fights seemed to intensify. I remember one night when I was thirteen. I could hear them yelling through the wall. My mom found me crying and I told her I didn't want them to get a divorce. She told me...
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