Coming up empty.

I dunno.........Life really makes ya think about Life some times ya know?

In the past week, Dad has regaled me with some amazing stories. Like.....how he used to frequent The Hawaiian Hut in Los Angeles back in the 40's and play ukelele with Augie Goupil and the-then-undiscovered Carmen Miranda, who he described as a little pip-squeek. Like.......how he used to hang out with Candelas (the famous flamenco guitar maker), at his shop in east LA, eating goat tacos, and playing guitar all afternoon and into the evening. Like........how he always wanted to be able to sing opera when he was in his teens, but it wasn't considered "cool" so he never bothered even taking a voice lesson.

Yep. There's been some major Dad-daughter bonding going on lately. I actually get a kick out of just sitting next to Dad and talking about anything--the birds that consume incredible quantities of bird seed from the two bird feeders I have hanging outside the living room window; the mammoth sunflowers that I planted earlier in the year and which are now quickly living up to their name. It doesn't matter what we start talking about. Somehow it always evolves into some story that Dad pulls out of his cache memory. Remember how I used to dread driving in the car with Dad? I wrote about it a while back. He always brought up money, and in the most stressful way possible. It was exhausting.

But now, I actually look forward to driving in the car with Dad. For one thing, he hears better in the confined space. But also, he totally gets off on seeing the trees, and the horses, and the river. Anything. Whatever detail Dad is able to see, he savors. Yeah, I love hanging out with my dad.

But..........well, part of me feels guilty about that.

I mean, I can't even count how many times I've asked myself, "Why didn't I spend this time with Dad when Mom was at home?"

And then I answer myself with, "Because it wasn't the same with Mom here."

But then I think, "But that shouldn't matter."

To which I always respond, "But it does."

Today at the nursing home, Mom fell. On purpose. She keeps trying to get out of bed on her own, so that she'll fall, so that she'll die. She firmly believes that if she can just make herself fall, she will die and this will all be over. She tells us this when we visit. Over and over and over. But, and this is the really frustrating part, she is always quick to add, "Will you please stay here while I do it so I won't be alone?"

Yeahhhh..........Mom's in a weird place right now.

So I'm sitting here wondering what to call today's entry, and I keep coming up empty.

Hah! And there it is.