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.