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The expectation however needs to remain “you need to be better tomorrow than you were today which should be better than yesterday” with the caveat that if you didn’t hit that you were at least trying OR it’s your goal.

There’s no excuse for giving up on being better for your kid.

I took care of one of the best friends I ever had at the end of his life, right when Covid hit and all that. He was a tough dude to handle on a good day, and I once told him in a fight (long before his illness knocked him down) that if I were catholic and could convince folks that I had performed a miracle, they’d make me a saint when I died for the patience required to be his friend. Any time he’d get angry at me he’d bring it up too haha. “Old saint angryeal the patient over here!” :p

It was tough. There were times when I thought things that I’d have to feel guilty about for weeks. I don’t anymore, because we talked and he acknowledged that he was a nightmare. He said, “I’ve ran everyone that ever loved me right out the door. I grew up hard and I guess I learned that if you always strike first no one could catch you off guard. You’re my best friend and I love you. I know you’ve wanted to kill me at times, but without you I wouldn’t have made it this far and I want you to know that I appreciate it more than I’ve appreciated anything in my life.”

There were times when I’d grit my teeth and it took everything in me to keep from losing it. Especially when he’d go to the hospital and then lie about his alcohol addiction, become delirious and demand to be released, I’d go get him, he’d regain his sanity and then cry. Finally, he decided to be honest and they medicated him. In his last days they even brought some of his favorite beer for him. He’d say, “I’ll be dead soon.” I’d remind him that he was too mean to die, the devil didn’t want him haha.

As hard as it was, I wouldn’t trade the time I got to spend with him for anything.

When I was young and I got strung out on heroin, he took care of me and kept me out of a lot of trouble. I owed him more than I could ever give.

Years before that, I took care of my ex’s father as he died from ALS and Parkinson’s. That was seriously, seriously hard to do. He couldn’t care for himself at all. He was so sad about being an inconvenience to anyone. “I’m so sorry you have to do this. I’m so so sorry.” That was the hardest part in that. I told him to think of my body as an extension of his own, but I know he never could.

He also took care of me when I was younger. I was homeless as a teenager and he took me in. He took in a lot of people. When I walked into his tiny little house to sleep, there were so many people there it was unreal. I slept on the floor in the living room with four other dudes he was looking out for. Some of them showed up to beg him for his medication while he was dying. It was insane. I hid his painkillers in my wood stove under some ash in the back. My house was broken into at least 6 different times by people looking for those pills. I hated them so much, then became an addict myself just around the corner and understood at least why they were all such monsters. Didn’t excuse them of course, but understood them.

I know I just said a whole lot of nothing. I guess I just wanted to say that I’m on the other side of twice being a caretaker. I’m sure I’ll have to do it again eventually. I’m very close with my uncle and he has a lot of money so I’m sure I’ll be fighting off parasites with him one day and dealing with all of that. Anyway, when I’m on my deathbed, regardless of the circumstances, I will die proud for having cared for the people I cared for no matter how hard it was or is in a moment. I won’t let myself sit and regret that I’m nobody, because at least twice in my life I have actually mattered and provided honest to god comfort to someone in this world that we all suffer in.

I have nothing but respect for people who do that day in and day out.

Sorry for this useless book. Y’all be good.