Tag: Family

  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.

     So, the deconstructing of my fathers life continues.  We have managed to empty out his home completely, except for the cat, who needs a home as well.  First day on the market, it has sold, cash deal to close at the end of this month.  His car is also sold… both went very cheap, but at fair market value, hence the quick sales. It will be a blessing for him as the money will go to his care now.
    The cat… Felix.. the one thing he sheds a tear for and asks about repeatedly,  ( not the other daughter he never hears from or sees)… will need a new home also.  I haven’t worked that out yet.  I have ten days to do so, and then the new owner takes over.  Four dogs here and two of them would rip him apart. So that’s not an option.  He’s never seen horses and he’s used to a warm inside-the-house bed at night. I don’t think the barn is an option either.
     As for Dad… he has a very nice room with a pleasant view, right now all to himself. There are other men who live at the facility who are very nice, very capable, kindly even.  They, like him, still have all their marbles.  Good company if he chooses to reach out. We have introduced them.   I’ve set up a bird feeder outside his window and there is a candy bowl I keep filled for the caregivers who come and go. He now has his big recliner we bought him last year that lifts him out with a remote control. The chair seen below in the picture wasn’t going to be comfortable enough for someone who lives in his chair watching the tube.   He has a new flatscreen TV and is being waited on and the food is very good.  Indeed, despite his best/worst efforts.. he is a lucky man.
    There is still a lot of paperwork to wade through, meetings, things to set up, and time will tell if he’s truly settled and accepting.  My resentment at having to be the sole responsible party for his care waxes and wanes.  I’m still working at being kind. Most of the time I get it right, but not 100 percent of the time.   He’s still working at realizing all that is being done on his behalf.  We weren’t close.  I go through the motions at the nursing home as the caring daughter, the only family member who visits, but it feels like a lie.   And then it doesn’t.  Sometimes I feel good about the effort I’m making even when it’s a pain in the ass.   Sometimes it feels good to see him comfortable and apparently pleased with his surroundings. Sometimes I find the nearest ear and vent the anger I obviously still possess about many things.  That’s often my mother, who divorced him many many years ago.   Sometimes he pisses me off  and I walk out – like so many times before.  Saturday after bringing him more of what would make him comfortable, I was yelled at for not returning his wrist watch, which he had given me just 24 hours earlier to have the battery replaced. He was so angry, he shook.    The reason it stings is he’s not lost his marbles at all… he is not in pain.  Why the great anger over something so trivial when I am obviously giving him 150 percent.

     I came home upset, but my husband helped me see that deal more clearly.  He said –  “Karen… look at his life now.  Even though he’s comfortable and it’s a pleasant environment, it’s a huge change all the way around. It has to be frustrating for him to have so little control”.      

Truth, this.

   And yet it still stings me.  So,  at the age of 50, I still have some growing up to do.   A thin skin I still possess.