Today was moving day. My mom, dad and younger sister came to Austin to help move my furniture and various odds and ends this morning. They arrived a little before noon and since I have the Rocket Dad, we got started right away.
I took apart my bed and my desk and bookcases on Friday evening, and dismantled another bookcase while they were loading the truck today. With my dad, the move is done as quickly as possible. He wouldn't even stop to breathe or get water unless my mom forcibly sat him down.
He does a lot of things like that. When he would take my brothers shopping for clothes, they would come home with all the wrong sizes, since he didn't make them try anything on. He went in, asked their sizes, grabbed stuff off the rack and paid for it and got home. He was only allowed to take my brothers shopping that one time.
But in the world of packing, his speed is also efficient, so he comes in handy. He has the ability to look at a room full of stuff and know just how it will all fit in the truck. And moving that monstrous couch in and out of the front doors would have been pretty rough if he hadn't been there.
But I wish he wouldn't try to do everything himself. It was really hot outside today and he had a heartattack a few years ago. Not only that, but on the way here my mom said he got very nauseous. I am worried about him, and every time I would ask him how he was he would tell me to quit worrying. But I can't. In fact, I am a little scared that something may happen on the way home. I tried to get him to drink, but it was like pulling teeth.
He knows he has this heart condition, but he refuses to recognize he may have to slow down. All he knows is there is something that needs to be done, and he has to be the one to do it. And in a way he is right. My brothers are not all that dependable. My youngest brother was supposed to help (which is why I didn't hire a moving crew) but at the last minute he decided to try out for Fear Factor. And the other brother had to stay with Konnor, though I guess Jasmine could have taken him. My brothers are willing to help out, and they work hard, but only on their schedule.
I know my fears are probably overblown, but ever since I lost my grandfather, I have been worried that everyone around me will die. Last October (2 months after he died), my parents went on a cruise. I was on edge the whole time. I was sure the ship would sink, or they would get in an accident on the way home. And now I am worried my dad will have a heartattack. Ugh. I told my mom to rein him in, but she says she is doing all she can. He needs to SLOW DOWN. And she needs to kick his ass into gear.
Okay, enough of that. I had a very long phone conversation out of the blue with T last night. Was a good call, but I am not collected enough to talk about it yet. I mentioned it to my parents, but as soon as I did, I wished I hadn't. They worry that I won't ever get back on my feet, so any mention of him is scary to them. I hope that passes. I care for him so much, and I want for them to see how wonderful he is, and how good our relationship was. It is still tender to them, I know, and he "hurt their baby," but their baby is doing better and enjoyed the phone call. I wish they got it. Maybe eventually.
I am exhausted from the move, and my head is still all jumbled. I will update a little later.