Dad went back into the hospital this morning for the sixth time since October. Mom called me at 7:30 this morning telling me he was acting unresponsive (meaning he couldn't get his act together to get out of bed and get dress) and that he seemed confused.

It is funny in a macabre sense that when they were trying to put the catheter into Dad he kept saying things like, "Will you cut it out!" The tone of voice was exactly what I remember as a kid when we would get a little too loud around the house. He threatened to punch out the nurses who were putting in the catheter, but I don't think he even knew what he was saying.

As I looked down at him on the emergency room bed, I saw my eyes staring back up at me. He didn't know where he was, he didn't know what was happening. Everyone has always said I look most like my Dad. Of my three siblings, I'm the only one who inherited his brown eyes. I'm thinking to myself as I'm trying to sooth him, God, I'm so much like him, and so far different.

Later, after they decided the catheter wasn't going to work (what an ordeal) and let poor Dad be, Mom and I settled down. She was knitting. Honest to God, I can't tell you when my mother took up knitting. It like sprung up overnight. She never knitted when I was a kid. It must have been some inherent thing that happened when she became a grandmother.

~Note to self~ BUY KNITTING NEEDLES. MAYBE YOU'LL GET GRANDKIDS.

Anyway, so Mom and I are shooting the breeze while Dad is snoring in his emergency room bed. We start talking politics. Every time I have talked politics with my mother in the past, I ended up angry with her because she expected that because she thought a specific way, then I must of course think that way, too. GAH!

But, this time suddenly we are on the same page. Okay, what kind of crazy God turned my world upside down. My dad is looking at me through my own eyes, not recognizing me, and my mom is agreeing on politics.

This stuff is exhausting.

In 2001 my mother and I had to have my Dad court ordered to a psych ward because he was threatening my mother, and threatening to commit suicide.

The 17 days he spent in the hospital were so emotionally filled that after it was all over I ened up plummeting into depression myself. My reasons for depression had little to do with the episode, but it was that match that lit the powder keg.

Dad is an alcoholic. Since retirement he started drinking 24/7. This is basically what brought on that episode, but I think there is much deeper hidden issues inside of him.

Four weeks ago, Dad colapsed at the dining room table at dinner time. My mother called 911 and he has spent the last four weeks in the hospital. I do not understand what occured, but his mind snapped. He was delusional and hallucinating. He had no balance, had to have help getting to and from the toilet, and generally just urinated on himself rather than ask for help. According to his physicians he was suffering from alcohol related dementia.

At one point he was admitted to the geriatric psych ward for three days.

This has been another emotional rollercoaster. Mom is a basket case during times like these, making her own odd statements and acting strangely at times. I am the only sibling in the area, so have spent a great deal of time trying to help her sort through this.

Dad was transfered to the physical rehab center of the hospital a few weeks ago, but has still continued to suffer hallucinations even as late as this past Tuesday. These hallucinations include things like seeing a pig on the hospital lawn, seeing little children sleeping on the floor next to his bed at 2:00 AM, believing the nurses painted all the walls orange then had them white again by the morning, seeing my mom sitting across from him then seeing a whisp of wind make her disappear. To Dad this all seemed rational.

The Rehab social worker indicated that Dad's insurance was running out and although he was going to be released she didn't feel he was ready to go home. Mom and I scrambled to find an assisted living facility that could handle dementia, and even though Mom is his medical surregate, he had to be declared incompetent by a psychiatrist for Mom to MAKE him go there. I need to stress that we asked Dad to go voluntarily, which was a total farce. He swears he is fine, and he was never sick to begin with, and has been "incarcerated" the past four weeks.

I wrote a two page letter to the psych doctor, because guess what... no one can tell us when the psych doctor might arrive to evaluate Dad. If I had a clue when he would show his face, I would have been there. In the letter I spelled out my Dad's odd behavior, including his many episodes of hallucination, and his delusional state of mind.

Guess what. Because my Dad knows his name and his date of birth, he has been deemed competent. Oh, and the doctor shared my letter with my Dad. Thanks for putting a strain on our relationship, asshole psychiatrist.

Here is the thing. The last time my mom and I sought a court order for the psych ward, I stuck my neck out big time and in the end basically got it chopped in half.

I stuck my neck out this time and again got my head chopped off. I spent an enormous amount of time away from work, not to mention emotional energy to make sure that Dad does not endanger himself or anyone else, and has more time to recuperate. I seriously am concerned about my mom, her own mental and physical well being. But my hands are tied.

There is a part of me that wants to complain to the hospital administrator and risk management. If my father comes home on Sunday, as planned, is he going to jump in his van or my mom's car, drive off for a bottle of gin, and become lost, or run over a hapless soul? Who is responsible? I tried to keep him in a place that was safe for everyone.

My mom flip flops from anxiety to resolve. I don't know whether to keep pursuing this assisted living thing, or just cave and let the two of them live in their dysfunctional world and not care.

It is the caring that has me teary eyed now. I feel so helpless and I DON'T WANT TO CARE ANYMORE! What does a person do to turn off the emotion when they were brought up to care about family?

Today on the myspace bulletin, someone posted a bulletin post that as a Christian I found majorly offensive. I seriously do not have a problem with people posting their true beliefs. Many of my friends on Myspace are of different beliefs: Pagan, agnostic, atheistic, etc. etc. etc.

Never have I posted something as a bulletin post obnoxious about anyone else's religious or non-religous or faith point of view. If I did, I would be considered intollerant. Yet people can post stuff nasty about my Christian beliefs and no one considers it intollerant.

Why?

They say in Florida there are no seasons. I disagree.

One way we know it is autumn in Florida is that certain trees lose their leaves. It isn't like up north where the leaves turn a pretty color and then drop like little fiery fairies to the ground. No. It's more like .... well... they were green and now they are brown and ooops. They all fell off.

We also know it's autumn when the temperature in late September doesn't reach above 90 degrees in mid afternoon. Sometimes that doesn't happen until mid October. You get this feel in the air on September mornings, and a bit of a breeze that says, "Guess what? A reprieve is on the way!"

I do love autumn in Florida. We have a fire pot sort of thing outside that we use to build fires when the weather gets cooler. Some folks here have indoor fireplaces. Generally they run the air conditioner in order to have a fire going, but sometimes in autumn it might get cold enough to burn inside. Usually that is the end of autumn.

Another way we know that autumn has come upon us is that people start decorating their lawns for Halloween. Not a red leaf in sight, but plenty of dead corpses, and ghosts hanging from trees, and tombstones where they shouldn't be.

I really am making fun of a Florida autumn. The changes are so subtle, but if you are a Floridian you can make them out.

The other morning I got up early and saw Orian rising in the east. Tonight I saw a harvest moon. Soon northern birds will be visiting our area, taking a sip out of our pond.

My husband just planted his winter vegitable garden which in northern climes would be the spring planting.

Our summer sun withers almost anything you could imagine planting to eat. We can plant a few things. Okra--- ewwwww, yuck, petuie. Hot peppers--- yum. Eggplant--- oh yeah. For the most part he just lets the ground go fallow during summer.

But Autumn comes around and it is time for cucumbers, green peppers, green beans, awesome tomatoes, and my oh so loved herbs like basil, and oregano. Collard greens and mustard greens are beloved by me.

Autumn is the time I start thing about the end of the year. I start wondering what I could have done differently, and if I could have should I have. It is a time for reflecting. It doesn't matter where you are, the end of the year is coming up, and you have to just .... well ..... wonder.

Tonight my daughter called me and said, "Mom! Go look at the moon! It is so full and big and pretty!" Funny. I used to tell HER to go look at the moon!

Harvest moon. Autumn is here.

My son was married in Santa Cruz Bolivia on December 30, 2006. While we've certainly taken vacations a week at a time several times in our 26 years as a family, there was something about traveling out of country that was major stressful, and that it was right after the Christmas holiday did nothing but add to the stress.

My mom and dad went to Bolivia as well for the wedding, in fact my mom and dad were the impetus to this marriage from previous visits to Bolivia. It is a long long long story...

Anyway, so my mom is also getting ready to go out of the country at the same time, and she's cleaning out her refrigerator and freezer giving me her stuff. I knew it was hopeless to argue with Mom about giving me her food stuff. She is smart as a whip but such a space cadet at times. I took her food stuff, which included a frozen half-used package of polish sausage.

When I arrived home from an 8 day stay in Bolivia, there was a stench so bad in my car it made me gag. In all of my hurry and stress, I forgot to remove the package of sausage. Getting the smell out took months. It was horrible.

This morning I got in my car and smelled something... not quite right. I thought to myself, hmmmmm.... did I leave a half eaten McDonald's hamburger in here somewhere? I shook my head and started the car, thinking it must be my imagination. Then I thought..... hmmmmmmmmmmm, the weather is still hot for late September and I'd better check the trunk for say......... something I forgot to remove when I went grocery shopping?

The offending object was easy to find - - - a package of Italian sausage in a plastic grocery bag, which I guess got away from the other groceries I purchased on Saturday. I promptly deposited it in the outside garbage can, then went to work with the windows rolled down.

Just now I got into my car and could smell .... THAT smell! Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww. I just sprayed the trunk with Lysol, but I hope it goes away quicker this time around. How could I do this twice in one year????? I have no excuse this time around!

Man, there is nothing worse than the smell of rotten meat!