Nursing Home: They Call It A Rehabilitation Center

While awaiting my father’s discharge, I spent time in the chapel. The peace and quiet gave me a great deal of solace. I would imagine angels and Mary at my side as the sound of various beeping machines vanished behind me. It was the only time that I was truly happy while at the hospital. Once my father was transported to a nursing home, step two of this new journey began; I am the child of aging parents.
Many people my age find themselves in this situation. They must balance the care of their small children while handling the care of their parents. A career and social life are thrown in the mix for good measure. I find myself wondering if it is okay to venture out for some fun without an emergency call to rush to my father’s bedside. Although he seems to be settling into this new place, there is a new dynamic for me to observe. My mother is living by herself for the first time in decades.
In the meantime, it has come to my attention that perhaps my emotions are nocturnal. During the day, I am relatively stress free and content. Once the sun goes down and sandman appears, slumber escapes me. Hour after hour find me and my thoughts entangled in a web of wonder. The holistic approach to this bout of insomnia will be taken yet again but until the root of this current sleeplessness is handled, I fear that there will be many a night of wide eyes.

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