Agatha Christie . . . where are you?
I left town this weekend to check on my father and stepmother. She just had a triple bypass to prepare for her kidney transplant. My dad is into his chemotherapy. I was startled to learn they were getting Meals on Wheels, but grateful at the same time. It sucks that we live so far apart. I imagine that we will have to make regularly scheduled visits between my sister and I to make sure they are ok. I didn’t sleep most of the weekend, but I really haven’t slept well for the last year. . . . no biggie. My dad only wants to know one thing . . . When is that baby coming home? Oh . . . . if I only knew when . . . .
I have been trying to to my part to work toward advancing the push for a new agreement, albeit in a far less aggressive way than before as per my lawyer’s instruction. I offered to have our names put on a petition, but the offer was declined by a very intuitive LADY out west. . . . bless her . . . she doesn’t want us to do anything to hurt our attempt to get our daughter home. Thank you for the way you handled that B.A.! When there is an end to my travails, perhaps I can renew more aggressive approaches. I am encouraged by the work that some of my friends have done with the new administration about to be seated. YEAH SHARON’S FRIENDS!!!!
I did find out that we are the only family left in what used to be my agency. Everyone else has their child or either has left to go get their child. That is a bit scary . . . . breathe in, breathe out. And then there was one . . . . and EXHALE.
