No doom and gloom today, I promise. No sturm und drang either, for that matter. Then what, oh what, shall I write about? :)

A few weeks ago, I received an unexpected phone call from my baby sister. She's a grown up woman, now, of course, although it's never truly sunken in. After the usual family banter, she returned to a subject she'd raised a couple of times by email. She thought I should call my Dad more often, or at least write more than a couple of times a year.

"Listen, baby sister," I said, in my big brotherly way, "I told you already that I'm very busy right now. And I'm dealing with all sorts of issues that I'd rather not go into." I fully expected her to back down. After all, she is my little sister. But she knocked me over, saying "I don't really care. We're all busy. Your sister and I have lives too. Dad really needs our support right now with Mam" - who has Alzheimers - "and you need to play your part too."

I was truly shocked that my sister would speak to me so forcefully, and I was lost for words for a moment. But the fact that she hit me that way really made me stop and think ... quickly! I realized that I really needed that perspective change. I'd been seeing my parents as all the way over there, 6,000 miles away, not really a part of my daily life. I needed to just make that leap, and make them a part of my daily thoughts again. I tried to explain this to Kirstie, and, good lass that she is, she understood what I was saying. I promised to find the time to call Dad more often.

But when I put the phone down, I was also thinking of why I long ago drifted into irregular communication. It's really because my Dad had such a hard time accepting my sexuality. It made him ill, and, ever since, I've felt the strong moral pressure to never bring it up again with him. So I have to censor my life - talk about "friends" and not "boyfriends", and that's just not the basis for a good relationship.

My feelings for my Dad changed last year, though, after I saw how lovingly he was caring for my Mam. I started to respect him again. And now my sisters say he's changing in quite a fundamental way - opening up more about his feelings, and his needs. I've started calling him every couple of weeks or so. So far, I can't say I've felt our conversations are any less indirect than they used to be. We talk about soccer, or Tony Blair, or, of course, the weather.

I kind of dreaded talking to my mother, though, when I started to call more often. Several months ago, when I spoke with her, she got horribly confused, and really had no clue who I was. The good news is, though, that she's taking Aricept, and has made wonderful progress. She sounded almost completely back to normal - like she was a couple of years go. She remembered the basics at least, like knowing that I was living in San Francisco. I could sense that there were large gaps in her understanding still there; areas that neither of us were going to go into. But she's a hell of a lot better, at least.

Well I realize that I kind of broke my promise didn't I. There is a little bit of "sturm" here. At least there's no "drang" :) In truth, my spirits have picked up enormously these last two days, largely because my fatigue thinggy has temporarily gone into remission. And the weather here is gorgeous right now.