Wednesday, July 12, 2006

A hard day has come

We made our pilgrimage to San Antonio on Monday to visit the in-laws and pick up the "stuff." When we got there, FIL was in the back room with my daughter. He seemed to be in fair spirits, but later I discovered it was only because of the great grandchildren being there. I sat with him for a few minutes. The first thing he said to me was "this is not my idea."

I understand fully that he doesn’t want to leave the house in which he has lived for 54 years. They built that house, raised their family there, had the grandchildren visit for weeks in the summers, entertained their great grandchildren there. That house was his dream. Not many blue color workers had a beautiful three bedroom home like this one. It even had a stone that was not used much at that time.

I have lived in my house for 31 years in November. We have made it our own. I don’t want to leave it either, and I hope that I don’t have to leave it in the foreseeable future. I do know that I will have to leave it someday if I live that long. As we age, this same situation is in our future.

I also know that the mess I walked into was not the way to handle this move. He agreed to a three-month trial. He was sitting in the sun porch with all the things that belonged in the china cabinet strewn around him. Boxes and boxes of things sat around waiting to be gone through by the children and grandchildren. He was surrounded by the objects obtained in his life strewn about, and being picked over by people. This was not the way to handle this situation. I am worried about him. He tends to depression anyway. He sits in what is now the chaos of his belongings while his wife of 64 years becomes more and more Obsessive Compulsive about leaving, which happens today.

My poor SIL has been there for a week and will remain until tomorrow. It has been a really tough time for her. FIL has taken his ire out on her. She has taken it all, but is now becoming angry about it. MIL is oblivious about FIL’s mood. She doesn’t care. I suppose that is one of the by-products of OCD. She is not focusing on anything else around her. G tried to tell her something, and she paid no attention. I don’t know how SIL will make it. She remarked that Fil could just stay in the house if he wanted. She was to the point she didn’t care anymore. She has been the brunt of so much of his anger that he will not direct to his wife. SIL is the youngest of the brood, and the only female.

As I was observing all this, I also realized even more fully how much they need to move - and probably not to just a retirement "village" but to full assisted living. On more than one occasion, I could see my father’s blank face appear in hers. She has dementia as well as her physical problems. He does too. I have seen this for years, but no one else has. I prayed I would never see "the look" again. It hurt me to the core. She is where my dad was when he was five years into his twelve-year journey into oblivion. He was partially functional for a while, but the result will be the same. She will have to go to full assisted living. Perhaps a memory support unit like he was in, a locked unit to protect her.

I don’t know what is in store for them in the future. Their future is limited as is, but I don’t know how good it will be. Are we going from a woman who was in constant pain, limited to what and where she could go, and focusing only on her pain becoming increasingly depressed? Or do we modify a house that is in a dangerous setting so that a man can go on happily until someone harms him or them? Someone’s mental health hangs in the balance. She will be happy there. She will get out and meet others that are living there. She will go back to the way she was before, but what will happen to him. If I could write the ending of this saga, he would find that there are people to meet and visit with. He can still take the dog out on walks - that are safe now. Their back yard will be plenty for them to sit out with the dog in the evenings and everyone will be just as happy - even if it is only 10 x 20. I just wish I could write the end to this tale. An ending where everyone can live out their lives happily. I’m just afraid of the real ending.

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