Family Ties

So this week has been quite interesting and stressful. My dad had been in the hospital for two weeks. He needed to have leg surgery and thankfully, because he was not "an emergency" he kept getting bumped down the list. Finally had his surgery Monday, then they couldn't get him regulated and he had a fever so they took him back in last Saturday. Turned out they had a bleeder that popped open. I know, I know, all of our first comment was 'don't you check for those things BEFORE you close?' My mum was a surgical nurse before she was blessed with me. But a nurse is still a nurse till she dies. After getting updates of dad's progresses Deb and I decided to try and ease her stress and drive up last Sunday. I didn't want to jinx myself, so I specifically did not pack an overnight bag. Yea well, that didn't work out. Deb was smarter and packed for a few days plus she was able to do some work as well. I don't have that luxury with my job, but thankfully, she does. My dad is a capable, intelligent man, normally. As I was sitting in his room, he would wake up and not really know where he was. He knew us, I mean how could you forget us? But he did say things like "we own Erlanger" and "his new name was Keke" and random stuff like that. But when the doc asked him the year, he got it, asked him his name, he got that. So he was rational on some level. I will tell you, as I age, I don't care for watching my parents age and that's all I will say. When I was growing up I had both sets of grandparents. My mum's lived in FL and NY depending on the season, and my dad's parents lived in Montreal, Canada, eh? So every two years we would drive up from the bottom of FL to the top of NY to visit family. I only saw my dad's parents at these visits. My Ukrainian grandma, BaBa, was unique. She had lost her mind, literally, when my dad was a baby. Baba wore tunics and turbans before they were chic. She was always smiling, sometimes laughing and trying to feed you. Always good grub from that household. My grandfather, DziDzi,(gigi) would make salad that we called soggy salad bc he would put the dressing on before we got there, but it was spectacular. My Baba was usually in her own world talking to herself, and when I was young I thought it was Ukrainian but not so much. It was Baba speak. I'm told she was a huge fan of babies who peed straight so I know she would have loved my kids. Both were blond haired and blue eyed and could be hers. However, I might never have gotten them back if she had met them. My dad and his big sis Mary, are both dark hair, dark eyes. Their brother was blond and blue. Baba was blond and blue and even in pj's with a turban, she could rock it. I would just sit there and let her babble on and go "yes, mhm, oh really?' We had good talks. Come to think of it, maybe that's why I talk to myself? hmmmm...My cousin grew up with both of them so she got to know them better than I. She was still living in Montreal and my dad married my mum and said 'we are out of here'. The reason I bring this up, as my dad was going on with his stories, my mum started having flashbacks on Baba. But here's the key item mum, Baba was incoherent, at least dad speaks English and he may say some out of world stuff, but he hasn't adapted the turban look or taken his teeth out. Silver lining lady, silver lining.