Sometimes things just come together

FireworksSometimes things just come together. And thank God they do. Since I had returned from my dad’s last week, I’d been working on his finances, trying to find a way to pay for his 24-hour home care. When I brought him a check for the first week of care, he took one look at the amount and refused to sign it. “This should be covered,” he said. (See “I shall not be charged”) I promised to try to get it covered and by the time I left, I lied and said that I had.

When I got home, I went to work immediately on finding a way to pay for Dad’s care. I can’t tell you what happened, but let’s just say I ran into some roadblocks.  I also spent all of my working hours (with childcare) case-managing my Dad’s affairs. I made him a doctor’s appointment, arranged for transportation, fielded calls from his aide, worked on getting his creditors to understand that I couldn’t pay them yet, and talked to his banks.

The day of his doctor appointment, his aide called me. “He says he doesn’t want to go to the hospital.”

“It’s not the hospital. It’s the doctor.”

“I told him dat. He says he went to the doctor last week.”

“It’s a different doctor.”

“I told him dat. He don’t wanna go. The car is coming in an hour!”

“Let me talk to him.” I said. “Hi Dad.”


“Why don’t you want to go to the doctor?”

“I went to the doctor last week.”

“This isn’t that doctor. It’s your cardiologist. Remember when your doctor did that EKG on you? He said your heart wasn’t beating right.”

“He fixed it. He gave me medication.”

“He said you had to go to the cardiologist.”

“He works for the hospital.”

“No he doesn’t. You’ve seen him before. He’s in Yorktown.”

“Well, do you want me to go?” How did he not get that from our conversation? “I’ll go if you want me to go.”

“I want you to go.”

“Okay, I’ll go.”

I had enough to do without convincing my dad to go to the appointments I made for him. I wasn’t able to do any of my own work, and I love what I do, so I was pretty miserable. And then Friday came along. We woke up to snow – rare in Seattle – and I took the kids to school. When we got there, it was clear that something was very wrong. There were no other cars dropping kids off, and the lights in the building were off.

I turned on my phone for the first time that morning and found an email saying school was delayed for an hour. I usually turn on my phone when I wake up, but not that day. My daughter’s teacher emailed, texted and left a voice mail and I didn’t see any of them until we were already there. We meet my son’s babysitter at school, so we had to wait for her anyway. As we loaded him into the babysitter’s car, my daughter’s teacher pulled up. We laughed about how I didn’t get any of her messages and I told her I’d take my daughter on errands until school started. She said she didn’t mind if my daughter stayed at school, now that she, and the other teachers who’d pulled up, were there. I asked my daughter what she wanted to do and of course, she said “Stay.”

Woohoo! The teacher was a life-saver — no dragging my daughter to the bank – I was on my own. I brought my Power of Attorney document to the bank, and they accepted it, so I would have a way to pay for my dad’s care. Woohoo again! It was an hour-long process, and I was waiting a lot, so I cleaned out my email on my phone. I got to last Thursday and there was an email from the school district. I’d found out weeks ago that my daughter hadn’t gotten into full-time kindergarten. They hold a lottery because they have more kids than spots and she had missed getting in by two – which was not as comforting as the school district must have thought when they sent me an email to that effect. She was number two on the waiting list. That was supposed to make me feel better? It was like the time I missed the ferry by 10 cars. I was annoyed, but I looked at the first car in line and thought, he must be REALLY annoyed!

In any case I was not happy about kindergarten, but this email said “Good news!” Good news? No way. I clicked on it. The email said that my daughter had gotten a spot in full-time kindergarten! I hoped that they didn’t give her spot away because I hadn’t responded. Last Thursday I was on a plane, and I guess I didn’t check my email when it came through because I certainly would have read this one. I emailed the school district and they said my daughter still had her spot, as long as I paid her tuition. (Yes, it’s public school and that’s a whole different story.) After I finished at the bank, I raced up to the school district office.

God was with me Friday, which must have been the answer to the little breakdown I’d had while praying the day before. Even the radio was with me. On my way to the school district office, I heard “Wanted Dead or Alive,” which is tied for top two of my favorite songs, “Rock You Like a Hurricane,” and as I got out of the car, “Keep on Loving You.” I wrote the check, got my receipt, and my baby had her spot in kindergarten. Sometimes things just come together.