How did Dad take the news? Hard to say. He was very quiet. I brought hubby along with me, knowing that Dad respects him tremendously and, admittedly, to soften the blow. Dad's response was: "Well, if I have to stay here, then I want my wife here in the room with me." Then I had to deliver more bad news. "Mom doesn't require the level of care that you do, Dad, so she can't stay here."
It was just one of those awful, awful moments where you wish you could crawl under a rock. On the one hand, he understood. On the other hand, he didn't. He didn't understand why so suddenly, so mysteriously, his body was simply failing him. He didn't understand why he couldn't get the same care from Mom that he's gotten for 60+ years. Why can't he just go back home, sit in his chair, and have her bring him food, drink, etc? Because he can barely walk now. Because he can't safely get to the bathroom. Because he basically can't do anything for himself. Nothing. Nada.
The only plus is that we are no longer in limbo. This is Dad's future and, therefore, our future. Now we reconfigure our lives and schedules to accommodate his and visit him as often as possible.
And let me be entirely truthful, and transparent, because that has always been the point of this blog: Visiting him is no darn fun. It's a nursing home. Sometimes it smells like pee and poop. I wish it didn't, but the people there have troubles in that regard. But beyond that, visiting HIM is a challenge. He brightens up, oh so briefly, when you arrive. And then, he deflates again. So you try to make small talk (which I'm TERRIBLE at.) Sometimes, I end up talking to Mom because she's happy to talk about ANYTHING. We basically ignore the big, fat elephant in the room - Dad is stuck in bed, wearing diapers, with no ability to take care of himself at all. There, I said it. It's a terrible reality. But I think it's important that we smack ourselves in the face, repeatedly, with the truth, in an effort to adjust to it.
There is a cruel irony in the fact that I'm writing this on July 4th - Independence Day. Dad has surrendered his independence. There are good reasons for this - his safety and his health. The reasons do not make that fact any easier to accept.
While looking for a photo for this blogpost, I came upon this article. Basically, it says that senior citizens fear losing their independence and nursing homes more than death. MORE THAN DEATH. Daunting, isn't it? We Baby Boomers are so damn smug about how we control our lives, but as we near the end, we don't really have any control at all.
As we go through this process, I learn a lot - about aging, about my parents, about myself. I still have so many fears and yet, I have a few less. Part of all this is facing things I don't like - nursing homes was a biggie on my list. I probably would have grouped it into the "ickiness" column. Now, it's a reality that I face several times a week.
Maybe I'll grow up through all of this. Maybe Hubby and I will create an end to our lives that won't be so difficult on our children. And yet, I'm not angry about any of this. It's difficult, but nobody is to blame. Yes, my parents could have made better financial decisions, but couldn't we all? Nobody is perfect and I can't expect my parents to be as well. Heck, one day my kids might be pissed off at all the beer and chocolate I consumed.
If you asked my parents what they most wanted right now, I'm guessing that Dad would say independence and Mom would say someone to take care of her. Mom gets her wish. Sorry, Dad. I'm so very sorry.
