Coming Home

After coming home from our trip and unpacking, it was strange to have Chris thank me for helping put the stuff away. Boy, our roles sure have been reversed. And the next morning, Liam woke up and didn't know where he was. He asked if we were still in a hotel. Sigh.

Despite the fascinating and fun (though exhausting) Vermont trip we had, I felt guilty about going. My dad had surgery on Monday. It was supposed to be simple outpatient surgery to remove skin cancer. When we came home I called my parents, and my mom recounted a day-long ordeal that ended up with my dad having plastic surgery all over his face and head. My mom had to deal with yet another scary day in the hospital alone. I wish we had gone to North Carolina, instead. He's doing better and my mom's spirits seemed to be up, as well.

I spent a lot of time trying to find airline tickets to fly down there. It's so tough being in this sandwhich generation - it's an overly used metaphor but so appropriate. Well, I'd have to bring Kalian, but she's getting so old that flying on a puddle jumper - the only planes available last minute - seems daunting, and on top of that the hurricane and then, the small part about trying to get ready for school and getting prepared on many levels for this big step, so we decided to wait a bit - though this was gut wrenching.