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.
