Letting Go

I could have worried Dad to death with instructions and details before I left him at the skilled nursing center yesterday. "Now, if you're going to need help in the bathroom, ring the call bell before you go in there and get undressed..." But, knowing that he is easily confused and worried, I left most of those details for him and the nursing staff to figure out themselves. I'm sure there will be some tense moments.

So, I'm at the airport. They are loading the plane. I reach for my cell phone to turn it off and discover I've had a call from the nursing center. Do I pretend I didn't see it and get on the plane (the "ignorance is bliss" choice)? Or, do I call and risk hearing "your father (or mother) has taken a fall...rushed to the ER...etc." (the "my trip is f****d..." choice)?

I called. It seems the nursing staff was confused because they forgot I gave them all of Dad's pills to send to the pharmacy to be bubble-wrapped so that they can dispense them. My voice, raised several octaves and decibles, scared even me, and I'm sure alarmed those around me and, God bless her, the head nurse on the other end of the phone line. All she needed was the reminder to find the pills. All was well. I boarded the plane, and in a few hours was reunited with good friends in Las Vegas, sitting poolside with a glass of wine.

However, this morning, I faced the same struggle - Do I call to see how Mom and Dad made out last night and try to troubleshoot any problems that might have occurred? Or do I let go and let God take care of his octogenarian children? For now, I'm choosing the latter.

Sue