Family is funny. Take mine for example. We are small and powerful and tend to overreact to most situations. We can bicker over politics and then laugh over drinks. We involve ourselves in each other’s business, whether we want to or not. And personally speaking, although being told what to do and not to do by siblings, parents, and even aunts and uncles can be frustrating at 35, it comes from the truest, most sincerest parts of all of our hearts; we care. We probably care too much.
This past week, I just wanted to see my parents. I wanted to catch up with them and just spend time. SPEND TIME. And we did just that.
My trip to Ireland a few weeks ago did not go as planned. I was traveling with my uncle who had two major health issues while we were there. The first was he was super sick–pneumonia sick. And the second was he collapsed on me twice in a Tesco in Killarney, and was rushed via ambulance to Kerry General Hospital in Tralee. I followed in the rental car for 30 minutes, debating whether I should call my parents. The only time I lost it in front of him (and fortunately, he was completely passed out) was when he collapsed, and I was screaming, yes screaming for someone to help me.
We were checking out and had water and crackers, and he looked at me, said he was dizzy, and that was it. He’s a big guy, and somehow I managed to catch him–sort of, Continue reading
Posted by my words on a string | Filed under Family, Ireland, Life, Music, San Francisco, Uncategorized, Weight Loss, Writing
