I'm entertaining angels? Yes I am.

No one needs to start off telling me how lame I am at keeping things posted, but I haven't had the time. When I'm down in the trenching I can't see too far beyond my noise. This writing will be of wild and wonderful of tangents, and probably won't make sense to everyone/anyone. I reckon i'm just writing for me. I need to vent.

All is good in the dog world.

My dogs are healthy; nothing weird and I thank God for that.

My plate is full already. What do I mean by that? My Dad is still being ornery as ever. He is crushing my spirit. Yes, I will die first. Yikes! With that being said, I think I should say I love my dad. He just is so mean and unappreciative. Nothing is ever right, not hot enough, not cold enough, too much ice, too little ice etc. You get the picture. Lots of people take care of unappreciative people and i know that it doesn't make me special or have a certain privilege to complain. I hope I'm teaching my children that when our generations get old they don't throw us away. We care for our own families. Except none of my sisters or brother will take my dad. I say "We are better people than that" and go about my day. Sometimes (depending on the amount of sleep I have been allowed to have) I'm actually thankful for the opportunity to be with him. He is mean but I know he loves me. Does that mean I wear the pork chop? He did something right because he is clean, well fed and sassy. One of my kids better belly up to the bar when it is my turn to be old. I will be a nice old person. I know the difference first hand. When he dies I am a real orphan. I'm old enough to understand all of this but sometimes when I am so weary I lose my focus.

**Valentina is a friend**

14 years ago my mean, old neighbor married a woman from the Ukraine who had a son. He was 8 when they moved in next door to me. They spoke no English. We home schooled our children and he learned everything right along with the kids. I love him as if he is my own. Well, we moved out to the country and away from the mean neighbor and his wonderful wife when their son went to college. A few months ago I find out he has divorced her and she is dying from stomach cancer. What a bastard right? It doesn't stop there. She is dying. There is nothing that can be done for her. You know what? I have never heard her shed a tear for herself. Not one. Of course I'm not with her 100% of the time but she has been so kind, appreciate and makes me actually happy to help her. Does that sound weird? I'm enjoying taking care of a dying woman? She is strong, stronger than I would ever be. I would cry and feel so sorry for myself. All the things I would miss out on. The grand kids, the graduations etc. She is weak.. so weak and yet she still tries to do everything for herself. She is just a skeleton now. Nothing but hanging skin on bones and it hurts me to look at her. At the same time I can't stand not to have her in my sights in case she needs something. Not everyone in my life has been happy with my decision to care for her until the end. I don't care. Now that is weird for me as I tend to be the consummate people pleaser. Taking care of her makes me feel loved some how. I see it in her eyes. I hear it when she calls me into her room at three in the morning because she wants to hold my hands and thank God for me in her life. Those things count to me. They count a lot. When my own Mom died I lied in the hospital bed with her as her life was slowly taken from me. I am not wanting to have regrets in my life. I make choices before I consult my immediate family and God knows my heart. I don't understand why I get called in such ways. It is not like I'm out looking for "strays" or people to care for. God brings them to my door. I just... I don't know. Valentina's friends came in number to see us (really her) when she was in the hospital the last time and her other friends have blessed me. She has the most excellent friends. Real women of God. Not phonies, but women who when they say that they are praying for her I believe them. You know, when people say "Oh, I'll pray for you" you wonder if they really will. These women (her friends) are incredible. God blessed her with such wonderful women in her life to make up to her for having such a (I want to type "evil" but can't bring myself to say that word) mean, selfish totally money loving man. Everything to him is about the mighty dollar. Sad, as someday he will have to answer for his behavior. Yikes! Does it sound like I'm judging him? I totally am, that way I don't have to look at me.

I think this blog is rambling along even more that I imagined when I started out because I didn't realize where I would go with it. God. All I can say is God. When I'm up really, really late with my Father and Valentina it is almost like I feel his presence in my life. I feel like he knows what I'm doing and thanks me in the wee hours of the morning. I haven't told any of my business associates of my care giving. I feel ashamed. Like they will judge me. What will they judge me on? Like I'm a patsy? A waste? A person who doesn't say "no?" I don't know why it is. I didn't even realize that I hadn't not told people for a reason. Am I ashamed to take care of the ill? am I afraid to look weak in the minds of my business associates? Now instead of being blessed by this I'm feeling ashamed of myself again. I am empowered when I help someone get what they want and don't what. We cutely call it "Mom is the facilitator" for Valentina.

Guess that is it for now except to say Erica has been such a blessing to me. When I'm totally stressed out or scared by Valentina's pain she comes into the room behind me and assures me I'm doing all the medications right, I'm doing the right stuff, Valentina really is that weak. When I am broken she comes in behind me and reminds me what a privilege it is to care for someone else. Hopefully if Cody marries her she will know how to take over the "Care giver" role. I don't want to go to a nursing home.