Helpless

At 1:01 in the morning, my dad texted me that my stepmother was in the hospital again. She did not know where she was, and the hospital was running tons of tests. The same thing happened three weeks ago, and although the tests revealed many things, why she had suddenly become incoherent was not one of them.

This afternoon, Dad texted that she was feeling more like herself, knew where she was, and was coherent. But the hospital still did not know why she had become incoherent for the second time in a matter of weeks.

Also this afternoon, he texted my sister, who is currently across the country, that he had lost his car in the parking garage and two strangers had to help him locate it.

About ten days ago, we learned that Dad, who will turn 80 at the end of May, has been diagnosed with “cognitive impairment.” We don’t exactly know what that means.

I have not seen Dad since before the pandemic. First the virus, and then ongoing part-time work vs. insanely spiraling price points on airline tickets means that we have talked and FaceTimed, but not been in the same place since the end of August 2018.

I miss my Dad. I am afraid I am missing the chance to see the Dad I know.

I live 1,000 miles away. This week, my sister is 3,000 miles away. We don’t know exactly what is happening.

We both feel very helpless.