Dad called a couple weeks ago. Rachel, my stepmother, has had cancer for some years now. They just decided to transition her into hospice care. We rejiggered our vacation plans and traveled to Charleston, West Virginia three days ago instead. As with all cancers, no one really knows anything.
People come and go in Dad’s house, some of whom I don’t know. Rachel’s Catholic; a priest came in.
We’ve been on the road a lot. Charleston, West Virginia to Fishersville, Virginia where we will spend the night tonight. My mother made food. Lots of food. It’s what she does. We’re watching The Producers (new school) on TV while I write this.
I snapped at my wife the other day. I regret having done that.
My family looks old to me. I assume I look old to them.
I’m quiet, mostly because I’m tired. I feel physically drained, and I find it difficult to hold a coherent train of thought. I suppose I’m growing a little too set in my ways.
