Torn

I woke up around 4:00 a.m., having dreamed of 1) Brian oversleeping, making him late for his second day at his new job and creating great consternation in our home; 2) seeing just how bad the condition of the back end of our recently purchased home was (not my actual house, or my parents'), to the point that it was not secure from the weather or would-be intruders; and 3) taking Poppy outside for a potty break, during which she got away from me and I thought she would be 'gone girl' (although her recall eventually worked and I had my hands on her when I finally exited dreamland). As I lay here in the dark, I heard/felt my silenced phone vibrate. Odd; who would be texting me at this hour? Most likely Brian, working his second night at his new job as a nighttime stocker in a big grocery store. I had texted him before I went to sleep; he was probably responding during a break.

It was Brian, but there were two other messages sent nearly a half-hour earlier. Maybe they are what woke me up, though I was not conscious of the vibrations. Rick sent me a video snippet of Bette and Boop at 1:46 a.m. PST (NOT when he's usually conscious), plus a worrisome text. "Doing ok. Blaise however is struggling and not eating. Gave her Nutridrench and dextrose in her abdomen and b complex and Banamine tonight. Got her to drink a fair amount but she is grinding her teeth. Worried me!"

There was no going back to sleep after that. I laid there and prayed for my sheep, my son, my husband, my parents. I wondered if my struggle, my lesson to be learned, was about letting go of "control" (not a new lesson). It is tempting to think that if I'd been at home, I would have been on top of imminent lambing; Bette would have been moved to a prepared lambing jug/stall ahead of time  and monitored carefully, and Blaise wouldn't have gotten bashed/toppled and now be on the verge of death.

But I've been needed here, and helping my parents had to take priority over being my animals' steward. "Honor thy father and thy mother...." But I will be on a plane by this time tomorrow, leaving my parents to fend for themselves after four weeks of being their emotional, mental, and physical support. I am not at all confident that my mom will be able to function as sole caregiver, nor am I confident that she/they will 'call in the cavalry' of self-paid in-home care before an accident occurs. More control issues? Perhaps, but after nearly three weeks of assisting Dad (except for the few times lately I've hovered while Mom practices assisting), I know just how much focus and physical strength it takes to help Dad stand and walk, and I've seen my mom's limitations. I wish there wasn't going to be a four-plus-day gap between my departure and my sister's arrival. I wish we didn't live so far apart. I wish I could be in two places at once. I wish – I wish that there were no good-byes, even as I look forward to a promised land full of joyous reunions.