For now, it's just too hard

Saturday night as I sat around the fire pit with friends, I listened. I listened to Susan talk about her Mema, who is suffering full blown dementia and doesn't understand why she's in a nursing home.

I listened to Mike talk about his grandmother, who has repeatedly asked the same questions so many times that they have made her a question and answer sheet so she can read the answers for herself and be reassured that all is well.

I listened to Jacob and Andi talk about Jacob's grandpa, who often mistook Jacob for his deceased son, Jacob's dad.

I listened to funny stories that weren't funny as you were living through them. I listened to sad stories that are sad even as you are going through them.

I listened to stories of our families who lived in bewildering worlds at the end of their lives. And I didn't say anything.

It was all too fresh to relay stories of my dad. When Andi mentioned Pappaw kicking a nurse (so totally out of character), I was immediately flashing back to the exact spot I was standing -- in a store in Owensboro, looking at toys for the babies last fall and I remembered the phone call from the head of nursing requesting a meeting with the family.

I know it was a blessing that my dad was taken so quickly after his downward spiral into his own personal hell began. I truly believe that it was a gift from God that we were able to go from disbelief that this was happening so fast to praying for it to end for him.

But for now, it's too raw - too fresh. It's just not a fire pit conversation I can just jump into yet.