It Has Been a Long Week

So, I won't bore you with all the details, but it has been a long week. At times highly fulfilling, for example, my musical theatre class yesterday was another good one. I have been taking this fluidity class at the gym that is kicking my butt, but in the fiercest way possible. I love it and I hurt in all the problem areas. You know, the butt, the inner thigh, the hamstring... My lesson with Doug went exceptionally well on Wednesday. He suggested helping me out with a cabaret and I am going to take him up on it. I have decided that I won't be able to get one together before my birthday, which means that it will probably not happen until the new year. But, what better way to spend those drab winter nights than to attend a cabaret in NYC by me. Just putting the idea out there so you all start thinking about it. BTW- my 30th is coming in a month and a half and for all you who read and don't live here think about making a trip the weekend before Thanksgiving. I would love some help celebrating and I'd love to see you!
So, the not so good stuff... My dad has been living in a retirement community for a while now. He started out on his own, but was quickly moved to assisted living and now is in the nursing home. He has been there since January, but he had been there knowing that he would be moving back to his apartment. Unfortunately, his infection in his leg has not been cooperating and the nursing staff decided that it would be best for him to remain in the nursing home. Well, the family got together to inform him of this change a few weeks back. I couldn't get the time off work, so I didn't go. Anyway, he called this week so upset and it was really difficult to listen to. I think that when they told him, he was listening, but somehow all the information didn't end up making it to his memory. I assume that someone told him that his apartment would have to be emptied by this weekend and he hadn't realized that he really wasn't going back. He wants his bed and his stuff. And he feels like he's a prisoner. All this he communicated to me while ranting about how much it costs and how the staff is incompetent. The conversation was really hard on me. I talked to OB about it later and cried the whole time. He told me that although my dad called during a bad time, there were good times too. I was just assuming the worst. But, the more I think about it, if you break life into a beginning, middle, and end, this is his ending. It's pretty depressing to think that it ends in a place that you don't want to be, that you feel trapped in, and sleeping every night with a deaf man in the hospital bed next to yours, desperately wanting the queen size bed that you used to have in the apartment you used to live in, while you slowly lose your ability to remember. I told him that he had to find a way to enjoy himself there and the trouble is, it's harder for me to do what I'm asking of him. He called a few nights ago, close to midnight and he was happy. My brother John had just talked to him and told him about his new job. He was so proud and the deaf man in the bed next to him was already sleeping so he called me to share the news. It was nice to know that he can still smile and laugh. He can also continually ask me if I'm on Broadway yet. It is his favorite opening question in our conversations. The answer's been no every time, but he likes to ask. He even likes to tell people I am. Don't worry, Dad, it'll happen. I know it will.
I just hope that he....