What's in the fanny pack?
What do you do when your father is 92 years old and his equipment (heart, kidneys, structural supports, brain) starts going on the fritz big time? Well, I have concluded that there is something I can do to help, and here I am trying to do that. After my mom died in 2004, he lived alone for 12 years in the independent apartment section of a 3-tiered senior living facility in Spring Park, Minnesota, 20 miles west of the Twin Cities. 3 years ago, while walking in his apartment he fell and broke one of the vertebrae in his neck. He's never made it back to the independent living he enjoyed, and now my sister Cindy and I are here seeing what's what and hoping to return to our "regular lives" in the not too distant "future".
My parents raised my 3 sisters and I in Michigan, and 2 of the sisters still live there. I live in Louisiana, and Linda, the oldest of us 4 sibs, took a long life journey that finds her currently pretty much home-bound with disabilities, living a half hours drive from dad here in Spring Park, MN. My co-middle child sister Janine recently broke her ankle, a complex fracture, so it's down to myself and my youngest sister Cindy to physically be here as this unfolds. It might be end-of-life, or then again it might be "that time in 2018" if he continues his residence in the mortal coil far beyond what seemed likely several weeks ago. Financially things have changed dramatically. Basically, he is now only paying rent, instead of both rent and a "care package". That has reduced his monthly bill by $4000. Either Cindy or myself here full-time, and my wife Carol so far has been here when I am most days. We are totally on a one-day-at-a-time status, but the need to look a bit further into the "future" is becoming stronger. See what happens.
Vignette: he and I had lots of conflict as the sixties upended the relative comfort and simplicity of life for returning vets like him and their wives after WWII. Being a conflict avoider, I for the most part flew under the radar, which meant he and I didn't have much of a relationship, and we thought of each other as being significantly ignorant regarding politics and much of what is important in life. That disagreement-based template and those relationship grooves are pretty deep. So I suspected ill will when he started to take everything out of my fanny pack which I had placed on his desk. I assumed he was upset with my invasion of his space, expressing his annoyance by messing up my pack. Just prior to that, he'd been pacing around the apartment , maybe looking for something, inspecting stuff, and he asked about a small picture of my grandma, his mom. I pointed out a picture of her on the coffee table, and handed it to him. Turns out he was emptying the pack to see if his gift to me (his mom's photo) would fit in it! We shared a few moments, when it felt like we really were on the same wavelength, feeling our gratitude for each other.
My parents raised my 3 sisters and I in Michigan, and 2 of the sisters still live there. I live in Louisiana, and Linda, the oldest of us 4 sibs, took a long life journey that finds her currently pretty much home-bound with disabilities, living a half hours drive from dad here in Spring Park, MN. My co-middle child sister Janine recently broke her ankle, a complex fracture, so it's down to myself and my youngest sister Cindy to physically be here as this unfolds. It might be end-of-life, or then again it might be "that time in 2018" if he continues his residence in the mortal coil far beyond what seemed likely several weeks ago. Financially things have changed dramatically. Basically, he is now only paying rent, instead of both rent and a "care package". That has reduced his monthly bill by $4000. Either Cindy or myself here full-time, and my wife Carol so far has been here when I am most days. We are totally on a one-day-at-a-time status, but the need to look a bit further into the "future" is becoming stronger. See what happens.
Vignette: he and I had lots of conflict as the sixties upended the relative comfort and simplicity of life for returning vets like him and their wives after WWII. Being a conflict avoider, I for the most part flew under the radar, which meant he and I didn't have much of a relationship, and we thought of each other as being significantly ignorant regarding politics and much of what is important in life. That disagreement-based template and those relationship grooves are pretty deep. So I suspected ill will when he started to take everything out of my fanny pack which I had placed on his desk. I assumed he was upset with my invasion of his space, expressing his annoyance by messing up my pack. Just prior to that, he'd been pacing around the apartment , maybe looking for something, inspecting stuff, and he asked about a small picture of my grandma, his mom. I pointed out a picture of her on the coffee table, and handed it to him. Turns out he was emptying the pack to see if his gift to me (his mom's photo) would fit in it! We shared a few moments, when it felt like we really were on the same wavelength, feeling our gratitude for each other.
 |
| Dad and his friend Joyce, at the chapel church service this morning. Shortly after meeting him 11 years ago (and discovering that she had a car with a hitch), they were on a 2000 mile road trip pulling a trailer and distributing his no-longer-needed furniture items to his kids and grand-kids. Always a good salesman. She never stops marveling at how he charmed her into agreeing to the trip! Years later, they shared the honor of being senior King and Queen of Mound, Minnesota! |
So many facets to this, but the one I’ll comment on is the one that made me laugh - how easy it is to assume ill will when we don’t understand someone else’s actions. I can’t count the number of times I’ve done that.
ReplyDeleteSafe travels. Randy