I’ve spent a lot of my life living in fear. Fear that others will find out that I’m a fraud. Fear that I’ll look foolish or uncool for being really in to a thing. It’s stopped me from progressing down a path and in the way that I really wanted to. For a long. Damn. Time.
“Scooter boy … SCOOT SCOOT” I yell as I trot across the living room, pumping my fist like I was asking a truck driver to honk their horn.
My father had a stroke at the beginning of June. He was the sole caretaker for my mother, who has Alzheimer’s. My family was thrown into a situation where we needed to step in as caretaker for both parents. There were lots of things to figure out.