Dear Darling Ones,

My first thought this morning upon opening my eyes was of my dad. He died in September 2022. His death was not a surprise. He had warned us off and on for the year leading to his death that he was ready and tired of fighting.

He had not been in good health since 2015? He was diabetic with congenital heart failure, he had surgery to remove lung cancer in 2016 and ended up having a stroke while in the hospital. He did pretty well for the next couple of years, but the COVID isolation of 2020 really did him.

When he announced at a random family dinner in 2021 that he was tired, it was understandable.

Today when I woke up my right side simultaneously heavy and tremory, my Floppy Scoop uncooperative, and my legs feeling like they weren’t attached to my body correctly, I could relate.

I related so hard.

Between the unending financial anxiety and the continuous physical battles and the having ask for help all of the time, I’m tired. It doesn’t help that I had appointments Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. I call it the gauntlet. Retina Doctor, Regular Doctor, and Physical Therapy. Uff da.

There’s still a lot of fight in me. This isn’t a cry for help or a warning. I don’t want my life to end. I don’t want to hurt myself or anyone else. I just want one thing to be easy once. Just one thing. One time.

Exhausted, but continuing,
Jodi