Spaghetti Junction of life | Times Georgian

Morning found me at the hospital with Ken’s Daddy. Old age and the ravages of dementia are rapidly disconnecting him from the land of the living. When only a few weeks ago, he was able to at least string some sentences together, they now turn into the smallest of fragments, shredded and flaking away like snowflakes melting into the earth.

I see this large, strong beast of a man reduced to child-like behavior, even the basic functions of eating and sleeping falling back to infanthood. He twists his blankets into knots, looking for some way out of the puzzle. Death comes to some simply.

My MawMaw and Daddy died like kittens in their recliners, with their boots on. Not everyone gets that lucky. The future yawns in front of us, the unknown, the fear of it. I have to lay my heart before the Lord and ask for both mercy and wisdom for the days I know so little of. To worry is to lose today. Just stop that.

Afternoon found me on the other side of Newnan, with four of our grandchildren who needed me. We turned off the devices, ate muffins, took down the Christmas tree and danced to beautiful music. Well, Eden danced and we swayed, the baby turning in circles and making lots of noise. Then it started…

A fixer-upper listing of mine went viral and I was barraged with texts, emails…