I wanted to write about the Granny Triangle Madness that has consumed me the last couple of days thanks to the marvelous Lucy at Attic24, but that will have to wait. Today was one of those days that probably belongs in a country music song, one filled with crazy ex's and utter chaos.
My plan for the day was to get up make a wholesome breakfast for the Bumper, pick up the baby sitter, run a couple of errands, write a down the pages that are burning a hole in my head on my new novel, fix nutritious lunch, and then blog a bit.
That is not what happened. Instead I got a phone call from the hospital treating the Bumper's dad, informing me that they were considering transferring him to another facility because he was unable to carry out the functions of daily living.
WHOAH!! WHAT?! That was the last thing I expected to hear. My mind started spinning and I had to sit down. I knew could get really sick if he stopped taking his medications, but I hadn't that it would damage him so badly. It has.
I started making phone calls to friends and family trying to get a handle on things, because in spite of how badly I feel for him (and I do ) certain things have not changed. The condition he has did not make him verbally abusive, that was his choice, nor did it make him change the locks and forbid me to set foot in the home we once shared, it did not cause him to curse me out in a public parking lot. These were things he did all on his own, while taking his medicines. I did not hide his medicines, or call the pharmacy and tell them to stop supplying them. He made that decision. What has happened is not my fault.
So now I am trying to figure out all the legal ramifications for the Bumper and myself.
Yet in spite of the heavy, I am thankful. My little Bumper still laughs and smiles, and throws the most terrific tantrums (especially today when I am not doing so good). She is a healthly, willful two and half year old.
I would like to hide like a small child does in a thunderstorm, but I can not. My small child still needs me. The Bumper needs me to be the parent. To love, to correct, to be strong. So I will, but late at night when only my Saviour can see or hear me then I will surrender to tears and be willingly held in my Heavely Father's arms. God has the power to comfort me and to see me through... and he will.
P.S. there will be Granny Triangle Madness soon. I promise.