Rock And A Hard Place

Mediocre Musings - by George Brannen

I haven't been on a sabbatical but finally getting time to put pen to paper. I am of the age,  as are so many of my friends, that taking care of those who took care of you has become my privilege,
It started this summer from Jones County police officer who was giving aid and comfort to my aunt after she got "confused " going somewhere and took a road trip that ended about 2:30 one morning but only after a tour of Atlanta with a gas stop in Dunwoody, then another in Bogart before nearly running out of gas in Gray. The little slight forgetful had now fully manifested itself. After getting her out of the hospital,  we moved her in with us. I tried to put it together but it upset her so that we just gave thanks that she'd had the best copilot along with her.  Park stepped in, cobbled together her finances, caught up her back payments, put her on auto pay and began the task of getting her into the nicest place possible without touching a penny of her savings.
 She acclimated to her new surroundings do much easier and faster than I expected, that I actually saw light at the end of the tunnel. I did. It was a freight train.

Over Christmas while Mother was here, she just wasn't her sparkly self. I figured the trip and being on the verge of her 87th birthday were the culprits, that and a nagging cough. After we well-rounded her about getting home and seeing her doctor, the nagging cough was fluid on her lungs caused in part by a wornout mitral valve. Her health and age precluded surgery but getting her into rehab for some exercises should help that along with a minor procedure that kept her from having to go under full anesthesia. 

Her financial conditions were not nearly as strong as my aunt's were plus she is sharp as a tack so home health care would help. Aye but here is the rub, Mother is a collector which is so much nicer than calling someone a hoarder and we had a Herculean effort ahead of us to get her back in the house. The Beasley side of the family is much less populated than the Brannens so we had/have many hours ahead of us.

Trying to decide what to keep and what to throw out fell upon the dude with the Peter Frampton disease, moi. For a myriad of reasons, I'd much rather be able to swing a sledge hammer but those days are gone never to return. The biggest upside has been this small band of upcoming together to fight this Sisyphean task of pushing the boulder up the mountain only to find another mountain ahead. They say you eat an elephant one forkful at a time but it feels like pickle forks with so much ahead.

But that's life right? Your elders struggled to rear you, then struggled with their parents and now have to struggle to accept help from others.
You learn things about people when you put their feet to the fire. Some recoil and avoid the flames while others walk across the hot coals without blinking. I think we overlook or take for granted the efforts of our loved ones. I wouldn't wish this on any more than about five people I know as far as the work goes! But i will never forget the bond that has been and IS being formed under force.

Thank you God for FAMILY, both the blood kind that are given to you and even better the ones who chose to be a part of this madness.

I'll do better to write sooner and LESS at one sitting, I promise!



  1. Bless you, George. A good son, nephew, and friend. (Hey, I'm not anonymous anymore. )


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