Dad

Dad is still in the hospital. The doctors would like to move him to Northeast Rehabilitation Hospital in Portsmouth, NH but he has been having small strokes everyday. Until he is stable for 24 hours he isn't going anywhere. Yesterday he was doing much better. My brother Paul sent a photo of Dad eating dinner. He was even feeding himself for the first time since the big stroke last Friday. Then an hour later he sent a text that he had another small stroke. When the strokes happen, he doesn't know his name, or where he is. His speech becomes "word salad", a term that the nursing staff uses. The little strokes aren't showing up on a CAT scan. His hip replacement is too new to do an MRI, which would give the doctors a lot more information.

It's hard for me to believe that this photo of Dad, taken five years ago when Jeff and I were moving to North Carolina, is the same man in the photo that my brother texted me last night. I bet those pants would fall off of him now! Five years ago he was still mowing that green grass and trimming bushes and hedges. My Mom's been gone a year now. Dad has been a trooper. He has managed living alone much better then any of us kids ever imagined. I am not sure he will be going back home.

It's always something

What a week it has been. We are trying to keep up with studio work and complete our kitchen rehab so that we can move by the end of next week. Wednesday, I got a call from my sister. Dad fell and broke a hip. He had partial hip replacement surgery late in the day Thursday. Friday morning he had a stroke. His right side is week and his speech is slurred. It's a wait and see thing now. This is when I really hate being so far away. I just want to pack my suitcase and buy a plane ticket to New Hampshire. 

Enough of the depressing side of things, how about some cheery celadon?

 Two different Highwater porcelains with the same glaze. Notice how much darker the cup is? I think that must be the P-10. The plate is Helios.

Enjoy your holiday weekend, I hope the weather where you are, is as nice as it is here Seagrove, NC.

Art Therapy

I never made it into the pottery studio on Sunday. The day was spent doing household stuff like pushing the vacuum around and running the washing machine. The bisque kiln was firing away, getting our pots ready to be glazed today.

In the corner of one room, three new canvasses have sat for nearly a year. I bought them to create a triptych of ginkgo leaves for Danielle's birthday. The evening that I came home with the canvas and a few other supplies, the phone rang as soon as I set my bag down.  It was my sister. She was calling with the news of my parents car accident. The accident that began the spiral of events that consumed my winter and ended with my mother's passing in May. I had neither the time nor inclination to start the painting. As time wore on I would move them to vacuum behind them but still couldn't bring my self to peel of the plastic coverings and get to work.

Yesterday I decided it was time. I set up my work space and started to paint.
It felt so good...
So good that the time got away from me. I was listening to music and happily mixing colors and laying down my background. When I looked at the clock it was 10pm and we hadn't eaten dinner yet! Jeff was still in the studio throwing pots. I cleaned up my paints, gave some leftovers a new life, and we enjoyed our late night dinner together.

Heading North

My mind has been preoccupied, therefore I have had nothing to blog about. I can't say that I have gotten much work done either. I have spent a lot of time worrying about my parents in New Hampshire. Last week my sister Anita had to go back to work and my parents were alone for the first time since the accident at the end of February. They have lots of support, my aunts and uncles are nearby. A nurse comes nearly everyday and there are physical and occupational therapists a few times a week. Anita took a day off to take them to an appointment with the surgeon that will eventually do the skin grafts. Despite all the support, they had a tough week. Dad isn't sleeping, my Mom had quite a bit of pain, and was sounding grumpy when I called. When I got off the phone with her on Friday Jeff and I came to the conclusion that I needed to go. I will leave tomorrow, flying out of Charlotte, and spend a week. When I called to let them know I was coming my Mom was so happy she was crying. I made the right decision. No matter how much they sometimes (often) drive me crazy, I need to be there for them.

Last night Anita filled me on what to pack (light clothes, summer jammies, their apartment is 75 degrees!) warm clothes for going out (it's been in the single digits most mornings) and what to be prepared for as they are very particular in their old age. She also said that when I grocery shop, my Aunt Rita will stay with Mom and that Dad will tag along to the market... and will insist on pushing the cart. She said he is also a bad cart driver and you have to make sure he doesn't run over the other shoppers! We don't need anymore accidents.

The wonderful sister that she is, she left a bottle of wine in the fridge for me... she said I'll need it.

Jeff will stay behind and hold down the fort. He has been working on a large dinnerware order. I absolutely love it and I am hoping there will be a few extra pieces that will find their way into our cabinets. Large and small plates and mugs are done, as you can see. He is now making the flared rim soup/salad bowls, serving bowls, and a two quart casserole.
No internet access at  my parents. Since I only have a "dumb phone"I will be unconnected for most of the trip. Ya'll have a great week!

the unexpected phone call

What a week it has been. I was feeling lazy on Monday, since it was a holiday, and wasn't very productive. Tuesday I kicked my butt into gear and became productive, which continued into Wednesday. Then it all came to a screeching halt with a phone call on Wednesday evening.

My 87 year old parents had an accident with the car. Mom and Dad had returned home from a morning errand. Dad pulled up to the entrance to their building to let Mom off on the sidewalk so she wouldn't have to step over a snow bank to get out of the car. They live in New Hampshire where it has been one snow storm after another. From what I understand, when my Dad started to pull away, the car was stuck in a snow rut. He gave it some gas, the car lurched free, jumped the sidewalk and hit my mother. She has hospitalized with a severely torn up leg, but thankfully no broken bones. She had surgery to clean up the wound and will need skin grafts over the next few weeks. They sent her home last night with a wound-vac to aid in healing. A nurse will come a few times a week to change that and a physical therapist will start coming today. Thankfully, my sister, who teaches middle school, is on February break will be able to stay with them until we feel comfortable leaving them overnight. 

Right now I can't even wrap my head around how my father is dealing with this accident. I am surprised he didn't go into cardiac arrest when it happened. He was really shook up when he called my sister. They don't have a cell phone and he had trouble finding the address book with all of our numbers... my mother does the phone talking for the two of them. I haven't slept well for the past three nights. My brain won't shut down and it keeps running this event over and over.

My siblings and I are glad that the parents are no longer in their house and are in a senior living apartment. They made that decision on their own, two years ago. I am not looking forward to the next conversation with them... perhaps it's time to stop driving. My Dad had a minor accident last winter too.  We are hoping that this decision will come from them as well.

Dealing with aging parents can be so difficult and complex. Being 800+ miles away doesn't make it any easier.


P.S. The lidded oval was from the last firing, it doesn't have anything to with this post aside from taking the edge off of the "omg that's terrible" factor!