On caregivers, faith, family, and writing…

Truck Stop CrawlParenting is never easy, especially on the road. When the objects of said parenting are not cute little rug rats but rather sweet octogenarians with Alzheimer’s, traveling can be even more challenging.

“I have to go NOW!” Dad said on a trip from Tampa to Dallas.

David obligingly took the nearest exit and pulled in to a truck stop. It wasn’t one of the big, slick shiny ones, but hopefully it had an empty stall available.

“I don’t need to go,” said Mom.

“I know,” I said. “But I do. Why don’t you come with me?”

Of course, as soon as we entered the restroom, she began crossing her legs and hurrying to unzip her jeans. Thankfully, both stalls were empty, so I went into one while she went into the other.

Now, Mom was a little paranoid, and she never met a lock she didn’t want to engage. Her stall had two, and I heard both of them click.

“I guess I did need to go,” she said while I washed my hands. It took her a while to finish her business and get pulled up, zipped up and properly adjusted. Then the rattling began.

“I can’t get it unlocked.”

“There are two, Mom. Undo the one at the top.”

“I can’t turn it.”

I heard the edge of panic creep into her voice, and I sighed as I looked at the dirty floor. At least there was enough space for me to fit under the door. As I crawled to her rescue, I reassured her.

“I’m coming, and next time we’ll go into the handicapped stall together.”



winding road Cover 25 percentA LONG AND WINDING ROAD: A Caregiver’s Tale of Life, Love, and Chaos

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Comments on: "The Truck Stop Crawl | by Linda Brendle" (1)

  1. Reblogged this on becky's getaway and commented:
    You got this one right on the head! Good job Linda!

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