THE WIND PHONE
No One Warned Me the Hardest Part of Being My Dad’s Caregiver
66% of caregivers are middle aged women juggling work and the impending loss of a parent. I had no clue. Now I do.
I slide out of bed stupidly early like 5 am. All bed-head not awake yet.
Stand in the dark and listen. Walk silent feet to the kitchen. The world still soaked in black of night except one crazy shrub glowing silvery green under the streetlight out the window. Stand, look at it for a minute.
Turn on the coffee maker, slide to the floor. Pull tshirt over my knees, pink toes poking out the bottom. Stare hypnotized at the green light on the coffee maker flickering. Inhaling the scent of coffee until I hear the gurgling sound says it’s done. Stand up, pour coffee in a tall skinny cup.
Listen. Be quiet. Go down seven steps to the landing. Turn left. Six more to the basement. Bare feet padding quiet on carpet. Sink into my chair, take a sip. Bob Marley One Love, Ethiopian Yirgacheffe. A buck an ounce, cripes sakes but small comforts help. Four hours is not enough sleep.
Sit in the dark. Hands around cup. Stare out my window at the black, can’t see nothing. Think to myself sometimes a body needs rest as much…
