Well, Mom’s being discharged from “the home” on Monday. I guess this is a good thing? We want to have her back at home, and are hoping that being in the environment which she is used to will be a better fit for her. She doesn’t belong there at “the home”. I call it that because I’m not sure what to call it. I’d say Rehabilitation Center, but to be honest, it’s an old folks home. And it’s straight creepy. When we visited on Sunday, it totally reeked of urine. Ugh. Not the place where I want my mother. I just hope we’re ready. Aw who am I kidding? I hope my Dad is ready. She’s adamant that I not be directly involved in her care, and that I continue to work, seeing as how I’m the only one in the family actually working right now. She’s made steps, huge steps towards recovery and learning her physical limitations, but I know this transition will be difficult. We are blessed, unfortunately, that my Dad is out of work right now, but that’s a whole other can of worms. I’m just thankful that he is available to care for her, and I will continue to help with time, food and love. Whatever I can do. This whole experience has been a rollercoaster of emotions. Sometimes I cry. When I least expect it. Over trivial things. But I know. I know that deep inside, that it is this: the stress, the worry, the fear. But we will survive. Because that’s how we roll.