Anthony DiFlorio
I slept through two 7:00 am alarms this morning. Finally I opened my eyes at 8:15 with the sunlight streaming through the window without shades. (I really do need to install those brackets).
Morning melancholia hit, as it has been doing for the last few months. So I turned over to get more sleep. My usual two hour snooze routine.
The burdens of the upcoming day bounce around in my brain, with the added stress of my aunt's failing condition.
I expressed gratitude for an answered prayer for my ailing aunt (give me just a little more time!) I took a quick shower.
11 am I am finally able to face the day, although I am uncertain if the day will seize me.
I had a small breakfast, and viewed my microscopic worm/tadpole? pet in the flower vase water.
It seems that I've discovered the perfect no maintenance pet. No feeding, no watering, no veterinary bills. Just a tiny creature that will jump around for a few days and then be replaced by another. There's no time to form an attachment.
What a difference a day made. Feb. 14 had the duality of Ash Wednesday and Valentine's Day. I observe the former, and the latter is irrelevant to me. I took my spiritual first aid kit with me armed with blessed hosts and a vial of vintage ash.I was able to service three people who wouldn't have gotten any ashes. But that was yesterday, and yesterday's gone.
Back to today. I watched the noon TV mass, still feeling depressed and anxious. My aunt's condition weighed on my mind.
I decided to take the bus to the hospital.
I arrived at my aunt's room around 3:40 pm during what is usually her General Hospital time.
She was awake, but seemed to be knitting an imaginary hat. I was saddened to see that she seemed to have regressed. She eventually opened her eyes and said something unintelligible, but I think she recognized me.I texted an update to my family members.
Then I got a call from one of my transportation clients needing a ride to dinner tonight. Eldercare is always a part of my life, but it chose me, not I. Life would be much more satisfying if I knew more younger people who could walk unassisted. I left the hospital at 5 pm when reinforcements came.
At. 5:45 I picked up my passenger, a dear old friend, and we proceeded to the Villa di Roma restaurant. Same seats, same compatriots. Same great food, but a down mood. Looking at the tables of seniors I realized that I was closing in on them age wise.
The difference is: they are coming to the end of their lives well lived. I never got to live mine.
After two hours, I came out to get my car with a nice parking violation on my windshield. I got home and planned tomorrow's excursions.
I wrote this post and finally retired at midnight.
Anthony DiFlorio III is a native Philadelphian with a lifelong interest and avocation for the entertainment industry. He is a graduate of Temple University's School of Communications and Theater, majoring in Radio-TV-Film. A talented writer in this field, his work has been published in Sheet Music Magazine and the Italian Tribune News. He has been a researcher, consultant and freelance producer for numerous authors, journalists and broadcasters. Anthony is an archivist and curator of video variety programs for the Clip Joint Consortium of collector/archvists.
