My father has been living at a senior care/rehabilitation center for five months now. It’s not the ending to his story that he would have chosen, but due to the choices he has made over the course of his life, he landed where he was steering his ship.
I give him credit in accepting this new life he didn’t want with a certain level of resolve, although for a while there was a resentment toward me for having been the one who actually executed all the transactions it takes to get him to that place. He recently likened me to a hurricane coming in and wiping out all that he possessed. I understand that sentiment. He had been in poor health for many years due to his own neglect.. and finally that last heart attack rendered him too weak to live alone. In just a few weeks time with the consult of many a health care provider, it was determined without someone to live with him, he shouldn’t be alone any longer.
Now.. at first, when he told me his “hurricane” feelings, the proverbial hair immediately went up on the back of my neck, a pattern we have followed our entire relationship. I took a deep breath, ready to defend myself once again…. and it came to me in that instant that he had every right to feel that way, it was his truth. So in five seconds I changed the direction of the wind in my sail and gently explained that it was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do in my life, to dismantle HIS life and rearrange it in a way I knew he would not choose. I would never have chosen that job myself, but I was the only one available to do it. He said he understood, and knows he is where he needs to be. The short conversation was miraculous given our normal “routine”. A storm headed off at the pass, a blessing.
I visit him weekly, sometimes more often, bringing him groceries for the little refrigerator we bought for his room…and his beloved Subway Sandwich as well. I continue to brace myself every time I walk in… my “be kind” mantra repeated over and over until I reach his room. He is still who he is… and I am still me. He will tell me what I should have brought or how the sandwich should have been made, and I will either get annoyed, or laugh it off. I will never get the love or acknowledgements that I have looked for from him my entire life, and he will never recognize all that has been done for him by more than a few people, regardless of his self centered nature for all those years. He was damn lucky, and still is. The intelligent part of me says “It doesn’t matter, now, Karen. Let it all go. He’s just an old man who needs someone to give a shit. Period “. The little girl in me still wants to know “WHY”… but there is no reason, he sees no fault or lack or shortcoming, and never will. So yes, Karen .. Let it Go.
Yesterday I stopped in to deliver his soda and chips and Boost. When I arrived, as usual, he wanted to talk. He got all serious for a few minutes and said “You know, I have a lot of time to think here. And what I am realizing is… I’ve had a good life. I’ve done a good job in all areas, really… I got to live on a boat for ten years, a dream of mine. I did a good job of raising a family….. (hair up instantaneously, but then I took a deep breath, changed the wind in that sail again, and said to myself.. it doesn’t matter now, let it go.) .. and I have always done a good job wherever I worked.” I’ll give him that, he was dedicated to whatever job he held. He continued ” As I sit here I realize it’s important to feel good about what you accomplished in life, because the memories are what you have left. I can honestly say I feel very good about the person I am.” I smiled and simply replied… I’m glad you have that peace of mind, Dad. And you know? I meant it.
As I sat there listening to him, I realized his absolute inability… or is it unwillingness…. to see himself for who he had truly been. Case in point… does it ever occur to him that he has two daughters, but only one is willing to visit him and do what needs to be done in his last years? That missing daughter is a genuine, decent person. He’s missed out big time in the relationship department.. but he doesn’t feel it, doesn’t see it… doesn’t even ask. Narcissism is one of the worst forms of mental illness. Why do I say that? A narcissistic person, I believe, is so engrossed in his own being, his own needs, happiness, his own agendas, that he or she never really sees their impact or lack thereof on the people around them in life, including their own families. They don’t appreciate good relationships, recognize or nurture them. Judging by the conclusions my father is drawing as he sits in an elder care facility, pondering his life choices, there is no question of forgiving himself or regrets or wanting to right a few wrongs or even appreciating all that is STILL being done for him. No… he’s content and happy with the choices he made and the fact that he has a staff tending to his every need is actually a bonus. That picture he has painted for himself is another gift he has given himself…and.. to some extent I am glad for him.
The little girl wanted to ask him how he could ignore the obvious, but the woman I am becoming.. yes still becoming at the age of 51… is finally able to change the direction of the wind in her sails. Most of the time. A gift I have given to me.
