Hearts

My dad has returned to NYC for now, but will be moving to the area to an independent living facility about 20 minutes from here sometime late this summer. I’m pleased that he will be close by and that he made this decision. But it’s hard not to feel guilty about the prospect of a new, different post-Sarah life. A new era.

When Dad was here he ended up sleeping on the couch, but we did offer him Sarah’s room originally as a guest room. This was a kind of big step for Max and me, but it made sense for him to be on the first floor and have her large bathroom for himself. I moved all Sarah’s stuffies off her bed, apologizing to them, and made it up for Dad with a grown-up set of sheets and a real quilt. Max pointed out that the Sleep Safe bed isn’t really as long as a regular bed and Dad might not be comfortable in it. It’s also fairly high. Sure enough, Dad wasn’t up for it and preferred the couch.

Last night after Dad left I was remaking Sarah’s bed with her preferred Stampy and Minecraft sheets and pillowcases and then putting back and arranging and re-arranging all her bed stuffies (as opposed to her living room stuffies and her stuffie cubby stuffies) and it got me rather tearful. I managed to remember all of their names after a little bit of self-prompting, which frankly isn’t easy.

Dad and Max and I went out to dinner several times, and we also played cutthroat games of Hearts and Oh Hell! which Dad, even at 90, always seemed to win. We talked a lot and reminisced about my Mom and our family. There was mention of Sarah but it was not a Sarah-centric weekend. I slept well and I did not wake up at 3 or 4 in the morning. Dad and I of course visited the new place he will be moving to, and after he made a decision, we talked a lot about decorating his new apartment, which will be fun once he concedes to all the paint colors and posts I’ve marked on Houzz. (Joking).

I’ve been pushing myself to find a new meaning and center to my life, or at least something to help fill up the time I’m not working other than watching TV, but when Dad was down here and I was distracted and having fun, I seemed to end up feeling guilty. I keep telling myself it’s okay for me to enjoy time with my father, that it’s not a betrayal of Sarah. She loved Papa Vic. And I don’t have to be a housebound, TV documentary-watching, getting up at 4 o’clock in the morning person in order to adequately honor her memory. I felt like she was with me when I tried to shoot the moon at Hearts. I didn’t make it, but she was definitely there, my Queen of Hearts.