AUSTIN, Texas, May 19, 2005 — Of course, I want to stay in bed this morning. I stayed up until the wee hours. But I promised to play tennis at 8:30. So at 7:30 I get up, get some coffee, make my bed, get into my tennis clothes. The phone rings. It is my sister. She wants to know if we are going to the family wedding in Dallas next month. I say we'd planned to, but I don't know about Dad doing it. She announces she thinks she will come visit and go to the wedding. But not bring her husband or a kid. "How long do you want me for?"

"We can't do this," I say. "I'm not sure Dad should go to the wedding, FFP doesn't want to

and certainly not if all we do is worry over people who need help."

"I could help you with Dad," she says.

"You need help yourself."

"Only to put on my shoes and socks."

This isn't true, of course. She walks with a cane, needs a wheelchair for long distances, needs help with the toilet unless their is handicap accessibility and can't carry things. I tell her frankly that with Dad in his current state it isn't happening for me. I've been considering not going to the wedding because of him. This ices it. I can see me chasing after two invalids at some wedding where the kids are supposed to have the focus on them. And dragging my unwilling husband along. (I'm not crazy about weddings myself; his attitude is even more negative. Can't say I blame him. We had a small affair, commiserate with our capability to pay for it at the time which was very, very limited. We see too many people spending parents' money or money they don't have to indulge themselves.)

When my dad was doing a lot better and my sister visited in Feb/March she merely announced she was coming and when. Luckily I could clear a little on my calendar by canceling things and sending FFP without me to things we'd agreed to attend. And Dad took the load off constant attention. He put her shoes and socks on. He spoke of her when she was out of the room as 'the patient.' I will try to find a couple of weeks a year (hopefully with more notice and agreement) to entertain her. I will try to visit her. Although when we do visit, I clear well in advance but find that she doesn't change anything in her schedule because we are visiting. She merely verifies that she will be home and then she has visitors, meetings, whatever she pleases. I'm not the only selfish one. I'm the only one who isn't disabled. I'm sure my bad karma (and the genetic time bomb of cranial aneurysm) is waiting to bite me and teach me that I should have been kinder to others. But will it? After all, there will probably be no one but Forrest there for me if anything ever happens to me no matter how much time I spend now on those who have been slowed already. And the fact is, my sister and my dad and I don't share enough interests to make lots of time together a fun thing for me either. When there is time with the family, I go along with there pleasures and generally forgo doing things I'd like to be doing.

Due to the phone call, I'm about five minutes late for tennis. But one of the ladies thought it was nine so she is even later. We get in the three sets (one with each partnership). I manage to lose only one, 3-6 with the weaker of the others (and we had our chances). She has macular degeneration and has trouble with depth perception. But her instincts come through for her sometimes. And the others hit the ball to me part of the time, charitably. With the other ladies as partners (and the weaker player on the other side of the net) we win easily. It's terrible and selfish when you feel good about dominating seventy-something ladies on what they call 'the dirt' (the clay court). I felt bad I couldn't pull off a win with the weaker opponent. She seemd pleased with the three games we did win.

All the time I'm playing I'm thinking about how selfish I am about my sister but, at the same time, convincing myself that (1) I should take care of moi; and (2) that the wedding in Dallas is a bad idea.

After the match, I go to the gym and do some skull crushers, static lunges, tricep pulldowns, leg extensions and a couple of sets of other stuff for shoulders, arms, chest.

When I get home, I call Dad. I tell him about Sarah's call and about not wanting to go to the wedding...either to take him or go and leave him. He agrees to all. He tells me he has an excuse. "I've had an operation!" (He doesn't care for weddings either. He says he'd almost rather go to a funeral.) On the other hand, he tells me that he went to the drug store. ("I went in and right away asked someone to help me find what I wanted so I wouldn't have to walk all around.") And he took some shirts to be laundered. He plans to take himself to the dentist (which is very close to the house) next Tuesday. He drove himself to church last night. Still, he has to use the walker and needs to be close to stuff. I tell him I'll take him to the PT appointment tomorrow.

I RSVP to decline the wedding using the facility on the wedding's WEB page. (Ah, this modern world.) I write my sister a firm but conciliatory e-mail. I eat some salad. I discuss some investments with Forrest. I tell him we are skipping the wedding. He's delighted, of course. I go outside and work on cleaning and treating the teak furniture. Then back in to get a shower.

FFP and I go to a political deal for a few minutes downtown and then treat ourselves to a dinner at Driskill Bar and Grill. Delicious duck menu with wine pairings. Becasue we are, after all, selfish. And we are celebrating our anniversary which is coming soon and his retirement (which is sort of happening this month) so we might as well get started treating ourselves. Ah, yes the selfish gene.

I slept so poorly last night that after a couple of glasses of wine (and a beer at the political thing) I'm really sleepy. I try to watch some tube and read some papers but sleep comes early.