My father is 84 today. Yes, he's still with us... although I think I've been holding my breath for a few years now, always expecting that call... sometimes hoping for that call as opposed to thinking of what might be coming.
He doesn't live at home anymore. He went into assisted living this past summer... something I fully understand, but still hate and don't understand. I keep resisting the urge to bust him out... while also fighting the urge to lose my lunch.
How can this be?? How could so much have happened so fast over the past few years?? How does a man go from exercising every day and having a stellar mind, to not being able to walk, and not being sure what day it is?? How does a man go from building a home and living in it, to no longer being able to live there, even though it's still his?? He has a home! He just can't live there... at least not without a team of people. It's very easy to move a baby, it's not so easy to move a 6'1" man.
He's still there though... or part of him is still there. Sweetness, as I have mentioned before, has taken a stronger hold in him than he has probably allowed since childhood. That is one of the few blessings, no, probably the only blessing of the stripping away of who he is.
He still has a fondness for ribald jokes. Go figure. You can ask him what time of year it is the day after he attends a 4th of July celebration, and he'll say October, but apologize to him for possibly giving him a wedgie when trying to move him from his wheelchair to his recliner, and he'll laugh right on cue and say it's probably the most he's felt down there in a long time...
He still retains (or I think he does) a fondness for flatulence humor, so today, when out shopping, and happening upon the scratch 'n sniff farting unicorn card, I snatched it up. I guess I'll find out Sunday, when we go to visit, whether this part of him still exists, or if it has joined the long line of characteristics he has left behind.
Below is my father, in younger years... Ha! I say younger, but he would have been roughly my age now when this was taken... 1976. He loved to cook out and built an awesome barbeque pit, which allowed him and one of his best friends to throw annual hog roasts. 1976 was one of the years they didn't... instead it was the Bicentennial Beef Bash... beef was chosen so a variety of other friends who did not partake of pork could attend.
You gotta love those shirts... again, it was the 70's... His glasses, however, were pure him. He's worn round spectacles since and before I've known him. I counted once, he had around 120 pairs... all different, but all round. Some crazier than others. He referred to them as his Magoo glasses.
And then there's that smile... a smile he often tried to restrain because it was crooked. Egads. What was he thinking. Smile Dad... smile!
The lyrics of this song don't really pertain, but it's been playing in my head since I put this up.
My dad isn't quite as old. But the assisted living thing...I know nobody likes to think about it, but consider that perhaps the alternative might be crashing a two ton SUV.
~
Posted by: ifthethunderdontgetya™³²®© | January 20, 2012 at 02:37 PM
Happy birthday Saying Grandpa!
Posted by: zombie rotten mcdonald | January 20, 2012 at 02:45 PM
LOL! He'd be Saying Opa. :)
Posted by: Jennifer | January 20, 2012 at 02:48 PM
This must be very tough for you.
I want that shirt...
Posted by: fish | January 20, 2012 at 03:24 PM
I might have that shirt in the closet of unfortunate, awesome shirts.
Thanks, J, for this post.
Posted by: Pinko Punko | January 20, 2012 at 03:27 PM
That shirt was/is SO not my father's style, but I think my mother bought it as a nod to the times. I believe he only wore it once. I'm guessing it's long gone.
He did love a good guayabera though!
Posted by: Jennifer | January 20, 2012 at 03:32 PM
Yes, that smile is terrific. Smiling is good for us, I think!
~
Posted by: ifthethunderdontgetya™³²®© | January 20, 2012 at 03:55 PM
great post J. I think I have something in my eye
Posted by: Kathleen | January 20, 2012 at 04:07 PM
Happy Birthday to your Dad. It must seem weird hearing that when, in some ways, he's gone. :(
I'm so sorry to hear this. I can only imagine how hard this is on you. Thunder is right though-while assisted care isn't anyones idea of a perfect solultion, it's better than the alternative... to which, I (of course) have a story for you...
My Dad's oldest brother had the same thing. My cousin, his son, just kept him living at home by himself. (my cousin had a house built right next door-it was a farm).. anyhow, my uncle started getting out. He would walk right into town! I have NO idea why my cousin didn't put him in a home or at least, get home care in. One morning my cousin went to check on him-he wasn't there. It was winter so he followed the boot prints in the snow. They took him to the highway where he found police cars, and an ambulance. Just before sunrise my Uncle walked out onto the highway and was hit by a car. Killed instantly of course.
So take heart. Even though you don't feel "good" about where he is, know that you are doing the VERY BEST thing that you can for him. I'm sure that he would understand and thank you for it.
Big Hugs for you Jennifer.
Laura
Posted by: Laura | January 20, 2012 at 05:09 PM
I'll take the big hugs, Laura! And I know he's where he needs to be, but it doesn't make it suck any less...
I'm sorry about your uncle. That's just horrible.
Posted by: Jennifer | January 20, 2012 at 07:43 PM
Smiling is good for us
Yes it is, thundra. :) So are bird pictures, and crazy blogging threads, and random niceness from people you've never met.
Thanks everyone for the nice comments. I wish I had bad paisley shirts for all of you. :)
Posted by: Jennifer | January 20, 2012 at 07:45 PM
"I'm sorry about your uncle. That's just horrible."
I know eh? That was a bad crushing story. Usually I get off on stuff being crushed. Not family though-I'm glad that I've still got that much heart left. :)
Posted by: Laura | January 20, 2012 at 09:04 PM
Well, I have crushed the ugly Laura/fish children so.. technically, I do crush family-not ATTRACTIVE family. I still *feel* for the beautiful people.
Posted by: Laura | January 20, 2012 at 09:06 PM
Wow, what a post... it's hard to see someone lose their independence. Hopefully, the staff at the assisted living community give him some bit of autonomy.
Posted by: B^4 | January 21, 2012 at 02:22 AM
I'm so sorry, Jennifer. Life is so weird and difficult and hard to figure out. Wishing you love and peace and courage and calm and understanding.
Posted by: blue girl | January 21, 2012 at 09:03 AM
it's hard to see someone lose their independence
I have an uncle who's always been a dick and it's hard to see him losing it. Good luck Jennifer.
Posted by: Substance McGravitas | January 21, 2012 at 12:21 PM
It's about the toughest thing to experience, Jennifer. I had it happen to my Dad and I really wish it wasn't happening to you.
Old photos are a two edged thing, reminding you of good times but underlining what's happening.
Peace to you and all the families.
Posted by: Another Kiwi | January 21, 2012 at 03:56 PM
Thanks you guys. :)
Posted by: Jennifer | January 22, 2012 at 07:06 AM
One of the best meditations on aging.
Posted by: zombie rotten mcdonald | January 22, 2012 at 11:12 AM
A lovely and thoughtful post.
Hooray for Opa/
Posted by: von | January 23, 2012 at 12:52 PM
love.
Posted by: nnntewns | January 24, 2012 at 01:00 AM