“Can we have the peach ice cream?” my son asked, looking up at me with his deep blue eyes. It was after dinner, and the kids were bathed and in their pajamas. They were being extra sweet. Maybe they could sense the stress their father and I were under.

Or maybe they’ve just learned how to get what they want.

I had forgotten about the peach ice cream, which wasn’t ice cream at all but was instead peach basil sorbet. The kids didn’t seem to notice the difference, or if they did, they didn’t care. To my children, the melon-colored sorbet was cold and sweet and a perfect ending to their evening.

I had made the sorbet last Sunday, while my husband was visiting his father, something he’s done nearly every weekend for the past six months. Sam’s dad – my father-in-law, known as Papa to our children – was hospitalized back in December after back surgery to repair a fractured vertebrae sustained in a fall. The initial hospitalization was fraught with complications, and as a result, he’s never walked since.

My father-in-law has not been home since that hospitalization in mid-December. Like my own father, he’s been in a nursing facility for the last several months. Unlike my father, there was a hope – an expectation, actually — that my father-in-law would get better, that he would walk again, or at least get used to using a wheelchair and be able to return home.

My husband and I never imagined that, in our early 40s, our lives would revolve around our ailing fathers and visits to nursing homes. Each weekend, though, we alternate who visits which father when, fitting these visits into our lives almost seamlessly. In addition to working full time and parenting our two children, we’ve added those extra glass balls to the ones we already juggle, hoping to keep them all in the air for just a while longer.

Well, hello there. I’ve missed you.

After I posted this story about my dad’s dementia, I hightailed it off to Puerto Rico with my husband and kids for a much needed family vacation. When I was twelve, my father spent three months in Puerto Rico, installing stained glass windows in a cathedral in San Juan. I have happy memories of visiting him for a few days that summer, with my little brother and my mom. Mostly, though, I remember that the hotel we stayed in had an outdoor atrium with palm trees and tropical flowers. In that atrium was a pond with a path of stepping stones connecting one side of the pond to the other. Hundreds of flamingos, or maybe just a dozen, lived there amongst the lilypads. My brother – who always ran and never walked – barreled across those stepping stones one morning, lost his footing, and promptly fell right in the middle of the pond, soaking his shoes, shorts, and t-shirt. I loved every minute of it.

There were no pond accidents on our recent trip to Puerto Rico. Instead, there was lots of exploring — the rainforest of El Yunque, the historic Castillo San Felipe del Morro, the streets of Old San Juan, and the massive resort in Fajardo where we spent our nights.  I’ll share photos of the trip soon, once I have a spare minute to myself to sort through the hundreds of images. And, you know, get rid of all the bad photos of me.

But today, I have a pie for you, just because you deserve one. You’ve stuck with me here, as I’ve dealt with — and posted about — lots of sad stuff. I’ve received so many wonderful messages of support, especially whenever I write about my father. It’s overwhelming, really. (Thank you, thank you, thank you!)

When I was eight years old, a new little girl joined my third grade class. Carrie was from Ohio and had three sisters. Carrie and I became fast friends, and to this day, her family feels like my family.  Yesterday, one of Carrie’s sisters, Mystry, was married at her family’s home. The day was hot and humid, but occasional breezes swirled the aromas of barbecue, flowers, and occasional puffs of bug spray through the air. After the ceremony, children swam in the pool and slid through the slip-n-slide, and some of the guests started a game of volleyball in the back field. There was food and drink aplenty, and the evening was capped off with a fireworks display over the pool. It was pretty perfect.

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Post-wedding celebration. https://t.co/Q7OeGxziWs

— mj (@merrygourmet) June 30, 2013