In a metaphorical sense, I see beauty and danger in the clouds and the potential for both sun and rain. As it turned out, the day has been full of both, literally and figuratively. I've dealt with my mother, and tracking down their 1978 will(with no power of attorney); this ancient document lists one of my long dead brothers as a beneficiary, and names my estranged uncle as the executor. I've put up with Mom's grouchiness, impatience and complaining, reminding her gently that Dad isn't intending to cause this stress on all of us. In a strange way, after 66 years of marriage, mom is fine with cooking only when she feels like it, eating her meals later than dad preferred, sleeping in with no disruptions, and not worrying about anyone other than herself. I've fielded numerous phone calls from my brother as we try to figure out what to do with Dad when the hospital kicks him out this week. Since we haven't been able to visit, we don't know much about his cognitive or physical abilities, but we're reasonably sure that he isn't mobile. Thus, the two visits per week that Hospice provides won't be anywhere near enough. We'll also need to hire nursing care, which we're not sure how to do. A couple friends of my brother and sister-in-law have volunteered to take Dad into their home since it's much better set up for caregiving; I have mixed feelings about the situation. It's close, we'll be able to spend time with Dad, and it will possibly be cheaper than a nursing home. However, I don't like the husband at all, and won't enjoy my interactions with him. But this isn't about me, is it?
Along with the outdated will, I found this Marine Corps photo of Dad. (far left) My brother Eric is his clone!
When I left on my walk, the broken part of my fence looked like this.
Several hours later, my neighbor Kev had almost finished putting it back together. Broken things can be repaired. Dilemmas can be worked out and questions answered. Ambiguity isn't easy for me to accept though. Speaking of that, the high profile quarterback of our local football team will probably be leaving; I thought I would be sad, but the potential is there for better things overall. In the past few years, this very nice and charitable guy has become a bit of a prima donna; his salary is so high that the team can't afford the great offensive line he wants. (does he not understand that?) He's getting older, slower and holding on to the ball WAY too long. He has a Hero complex, and thinks he can perform miracles, but his age is making them much less likely. So, it's time to let him go while he's still marketable, in my opinion. By the way, no one from the football organization is calling me to hear my "expert" opinion on this. :)
I'm anticipating a difficult and emotional week with many tricky decisions about what to do about Dad and his care. I've now resolved that if I'm faced with this scenario for myself that I'll explore the Death with Dignity option that is legal in my state. This kind of lingering death has no dignity whatsoever.
