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My grandpa loves bacon. However, recently he had an ulcer and the doctors gave us a list of foods for him to avoid. Which included bacon. Every day at breakfast, he would look at his plate, look up at us, and ask, “Bacon?”
I skipped the last two weeks of blog posts thinking that the only real thing that captures my mind is not the beautiful surroundings of Costa Rica but the antics of my dysfunctional grandparents. Every morning my grandpa will ask me if I am finished with my book yet (I have given up explaining that it’s a blog). One morning he told me I should write about my time with the elderly.
My cousin is devoted to her work. She does a great job and has risen through the ranks pretty quickly. Recently, she was given a promotion and pay raise. It’s easy to be proud of her, but to me, it was like looking in a mirror at all the reasons I quit my job. I see how hard she works from the morning late into the night. It consumes her.
Many times on this blog I’ve mentioned my grandpa that lives in Costa Rica. As a child, he was kind of a hero to me. A larger-than-life figure and seemed like an older version of Crocodile Dundee with a little Indiana Jones mixed in. He was physically fit into his nineties and sharp enough to beat anyone at chess (unless you played him after his bedtime). The house he lives in is on a little slice of paradise with breathtaking views and nature all around. He whiles his day away coming up with inventions and reading.
In an effort to reduce my personal belongings to a more travel-ready nature, I decided to sell my iMac and purchase a new laptop. My coworker Miguel had a pretty sweet MacBook Pro I had thought to buy off him. Delilah says we have our own little swap meet since we are always selling things back and forth.