listen ...

The Gramma Drama has just about taken it's final bow.

She's going completely loopy and she's dragging us along with her.

Yesterday, I composed a text to Papi in an hysterical state, where my heart was going to slam straight out of my chest and said, "I almost wrote to you that I've had it and I'm moving out."

My caring love said, "Oh dear, you sound like I did this morning."

This morning when I woke up, I read a very early morning text from Papi that read, "I can't take much more of G'ma either.  I think I may move out!!"

It's hard let me tell you.

If you've ever taken care of an elder, then you know what I'm talking about.  If you haven't, you have no idea what you're in for when your time comes.

be afraid ... be VERY afraid ...

No need to go into detail berating the old fart here for my 'good morning, let's sort out my brain' blogging episode.

Let's just say that between my emotions about Papi's male transformation, working 10 hour shifts, preparing for a massive show in 3 weeks, ...

gasp!!! wtf?!?! 3 weeks?!?!? there goes that chest pain again ...

... trying to keep up with the Fuzzy Family and having the Gramma Drama unfold with every breathing moment I'm at home is taking it's toll.

sometimes, i replay the Supertramp Song in my mind ... exchanging the wife for the g'ma

Hence, I thought I was going to have a heart attack on the bus to pick up our now fixed car.

One good thing is, I don't have time to wallow about my love's male transformation.  It's really a good thing.

I get to think about what a goofy spouse I have.

I'm pretty sure I told you that Papi thinks my blogs are boring if they don't include my love.  Well, when a couple of my Blogger Friends mentioned they'd like to see pics, Papi read the comments and just about jumped for glee.

There went my love, faster than a cheetah to grab the camera, scattering the Fuzzy Family.  We had to give every picture the once over to be sure it was the perfect one to display to the world.

It was like Papi was a star and I was the paparazzi.

or rather the PAPIrazzi.

I couldn't stop giggling at my love.

We were taking pics of mi esposo's progress, and for that moment, I didn't see the scars or the angry nipple.

I saw my soul mate.

The one that I married.

When I think about that, I realize that being here in this moment is really ok.  I don't need to think about those fears that are welling up in me that I'll have a balding, pot bellied, hairy middle aged man as a companion for the rest of our lives together.

It's now coming to light that all the changes mi esposo wants to make are really not going to change the silly, gorgeous, loving, understanding person I married.

I will always see my butch.

As much as Papi gets frustrated when I glaze over as mi esposo starts talking about the caterpillar that isn't growing in fast enough, I do listen.

I may not speak, but I listen.

I listen to these words that are important to Papi.

Then I slip back into what's important to me.

My love.