He’s sleeping. Loud, quickish breaths. He’s been sleeping well at night and a lot during the day.
Harper has slept out in the sunroom with him and Grandma every night. Tonight, I sleep out here and Grandma is in her and Grandpa’s room.
The room they haven’t shared in months. With the closet of clothes and shoes and underwear he doesn’t wear anymore.
We drove his truck here on this trip – the one that I took back home with me in September. It’s no longer in their names. It no longer has Oklahoma plates.
We play down in the bottom land and explore, wondering where exactly the north property line is. Grandpa can’t remember, let alone show us.
Outings during the day are tedious for me. Getting the kids at least outside is important. There’s only so much screen time I can stand them having. Their attitudes go to crap otherwise. But then we’re not with Grandpa.
They miss their daddy terribly.
My skin is shit, my eating is okay with a sprinkling of coping. I feel like I gain ten pounds just by being in this state.
Today is 16 months since diagnosis through MRI.
This is a photo from a year ago today, the day after he took a final chemo pill, at our house, on an impromptu trip with me to see his grandkids, then I drove him back home at the end of the week –