It felt good to type that title. It really did. I know that the "In Which Your Faithful Narrator..." titles annoy some, but for some reason I really like using them, I'm not exactly sure why, but I do.
Things have come back to normal, for the most part. My father is safely tucked into a rehabilitation center. He is happy and anxious to get going. I think he is relieved that he came through as well as he did and any damage has been "minimal." The power of prayer is evident in his recovery, I firmly believe that. He had his first good shower since Friday and he looked even better after that. His hair was combed and he had on good clean clothes. He was, for lack of a better term, a happy guy.
This incident has made me pause and think about my own life. I don't mean in regards to dying or anything like that, but how I want to live it. Where I want to live, etc. Since I am an only child, the responsibility falls on me. I'm not angry or upset about that, its just a fact that I have come to accept. As a result of this I have to weigh geography and distance in any decision I might make about applying for and taking a library job. I don't/can't go too far away. I don't know when something like this might happen again.
After the excitement of this past week, I look forward to a continued return to normalcy. That, and a nice cold beer.