Mile markers

I'm not quite sure when, during my race in May, I stopped freaking out and just started swimming. But I remember lifting my head out of the water to see those big yellow buoys so close. Rounding the second buoy, I remember thinking that I was more than half way done with my swim. There were two more legs of the race, equivalent to a couple hours, and I intended to enjoy the experience.

Some things are not so easy to see the immediate direction, nor the mile marks. Progress is slow, but the journey can be enjoyable. My circumstances have changed drastically in the past month (I can not believe it is one month tomorrow since dad came to stay). My freakout session is over and I find that the journey is enjoyable (though I'm still finding it a challenge to keep my temper when I see dad running around my house in his underwear, or worse... Especially since I have had ro reliquish my right to do the selfsame thing--and in my own house! But some boundaries will keep us all happy.)

Mile markers for my life all seem to involve getting my father into some sort of fitness and social level. Weird. Is this how moms feel? Like they give up most of themselves, as a sacrifice for the betterment of someone else? Strange that it's my father. In reality, things have tempered around here. Dad's blood sugar is now in the normal range, nearly always and he just weighed in at 298 (as opposed to 315 when he got here). What we eat is how I have always thought would be a happy healthy way to eat: homemade bread with tons of seeds and cracked grains, fresh produce galore, lean proteins, no sugar nor fried foods, most meals at home at the table together. My exercise routine is engrained in me, my body doesn't function well without the expenditure of energy, and I need those endorphins to stabilize me. Socially, I finally reached out, and guess what? Friends were there, reaching back. Tuesday and Wednesday, I had lunch with friends I'd not seen in ages, so fun and good for the soul! Work is good--sixteen remakes of the same exact costume, ballet skirts with extra layers sewn in. I'd say ick, but I'm kind of enjoying it. My Christmas "shopping" is in progress (I usually only make gifts, and this year finds a couple of my gifts well under way--as opposed to my usual procrastinated state of frenzy).

It wasn't a long run this morning, in the predawn hours, and the rain began during my last 100 yards. I did one lap around the neighborhood, then scared the cat at the backdoor as I opened the door to snug my JE, who was still warm in bed. Time with him is scarce and has become more important than anything else. He took off early from work, and took me and dad out to Korean tofu soup (soondubu). This is now one of dad's favorite meals--this from a man who, until one month ago never tried kimchi nor ordered anything but fried rice at any Asian restaurant.