That wall color must make him dizzy.

I think I forgot to mention a few things yesterday. Jeff's mom told me that when she was getting bowls to fix everyone some soup, she got one out for Bob. She also told Jeff's sister that she has heard him calling her. He would call her to help him in the bathroom, or help him get out of the bed, or whatever. It's going to be hard for her, I'm afraid. She's never lived alone that I know of, and has taken care of Bob since he had his first strokes in the 80s before I met Jeff. We told her to call us if she needs us, and we plan to visit her more often.

Jeff told me that on Tuesday or Wednesday night, he was up late cleaning and oiling the rifle that was his Dad's. He also mentioned wanting to go shoot it sometime if we can find a rifle range. That was my first indication of how this has affected him. I guess despite being his stepfather/adoptive father, he really had an impact. He's told me of the things he tried to do to help him as a kid, and to help him straighten out his life later on. They both helped us after we got married and were broke. I'd like to think we were there for them when we could be, more so than his own blood children. I hate to judge anyone or make such a comparison, because we really probably didn't do as much as we could. Who does?

Jeff and I talked a little again last night. In the conversation, I mentioned not being sure how to comfort anyone without crowding them, or not comfort them and seem cold or distant. (He also asked who we'd leave the house to, the cats? That was dropped quickly, and was mostly in a joking tone, I think.) I don't mean to turn things around to me (and that's all that was said - he didn't seem to think I acted strangely). I really feel like something is fundamentally faulty in my head sometimes. I just cannot show emotion or empathy sometimes. One example in my mind is when I took Jen to the humane society to drop off her cats when she was moving to FL. She cried as we left, and after some hesitation I just put my hand on her back or shoulder. I really didn't know what to do. I think some of it is that I myself don't like unwelcome touches or someone in my personal space, so I try to give that same courtesy to others. Also, it's the whole Dad thing. He has never been very outwardly affectionate, so maybe I never learned how to be, either.

I got a facial this afternoon. It's the second with the new lady, and my face is relatively clear again. I should go in there when it's broken out so she can see how bad it can be. Last time she said, "Well, it looks pretty good to me." I get that a lot, and I don't even have a magnifying mirror.