I’ve written much more about my mother here than my dad, but I just have to tell you a few quick things that have happened in the past couple of days:
I talked to my sister last night. She and my dad were planning to come here for spring break, since Hubby and I won’t be able to get there for Christmas. My dad’s brilliant idea? Take the train. Because he’s in his 70s and has never ridden one. Kind of sorry I’m not going to be on that train with them.
He called me today to brag about his excellent health. He gets a physical every year for work (I’ve mentioned he’s in his 70s, right?), and this year, his blood pressure and thyroid (both of which are being treated medicinally) are better than last year. He eats oatmeal every morning and drinks a glass of wine every evening. He says he’s going to live to be at least 100.
My dad doesn’t have much. He works full time (and then some) to pay his bills, as well as the bills my mother managed to rack up before she died. But he wanted to offer us what he can toward paying for our upcoming IVF. Because he’s amazing and generous like that.
I don’t know if it’s the PMS-like symptoms of being on birth control, but my family (on both sides) stepping up to help us achieve our dream of having children has me in tears. How did we ever get so lucky?