I talked to my dad on the phone last night. He hadn’t called to tell me about his father because it wasn’t really serious until yesterday afternoon. Things are maybe (hopefully) not as grim as my step mother thought yesterday. While I was talking to my dad, John was telling the boys that they needed to clean up their room. Lexy was saying that his stomach hurt too much to do it, so I told him that if he was sick he could go to bed and that I would clean up for him. He said he thought laying on the couch and watching tv would make him feel better. My dad laughed and told me that once when he was a kid, he’d given his mother some lame excuse like that to get out of something. My grandmother looked at him and said, "Well, Stanley, a poor excuse is better than no excuse at all." And he knew that he’d been busted. Without yelling or arguing. I wish I could parent like that.
This morning I talked to my grandmother. She said that my grandfather has fluid around his heart because there is a valve that needs to be replaced. He isn’t up to the surgery, though. The plan is to get home health care in place for him and get him home. If he takes it easy, he may live for quite a while longer. Right now, no one is too sure how he’ll do. All five of my grandparents children will be there this weekend. I wish I could be, too.