It's still amazing to me how my feelings about my parents change over time. As a child, I idolized my father. He was the one that could save me from any monster, any bully... could deliver any prize no matter how difficult to win... could perform any feat of magic to make my dreams come true... could give the best hugs... he could make the stars fall from the sky just to make me smile. He was the only Knight In Shining Armour... the Hero... the Gladiator willing to Champion me no matter what.
Over time, he became "the enemy". We are a lot alike, he and I, and looking in that mirror isn't always easy or pleasant. You learn, with mirrors, that not only the good things are reflected. You see your own faults right in front of your face as well.... your own shortcomings... and when reflected like that, you can't ignore them. Well, you can pretend to, but you know inside what's really there. And, when you don't want to see what's in that mirror... you turn away instead of accepting what is right in front of your face.
After having my own child and growing up a fair bit myself, my perception changes once again. I see the challenges he faced and understand them at a personal level. I feel the conflicting emotions he felt as a parent, and share similar burdens as a person. I also experience the same joys he experienced at similar places in his life, though the ultimate source of those joys differ... they are still relevant... comparable at a human level.
I am now at a point where I will have to confront the same grief he has faced as the child of an aging parent. I hope to God I never have to face the daily challenge he overcomes as the husband of a terminally ill spouse... but at some point I know I will have to deal with the mortality of someone I love intimately... and I hope I can do it with even a quarter of his grace. Now, he is my Hero again. He is the man I see for who he is, off the pedestal, his strengths and weaknesses clearly displayed. He is driven... sometimes misguided, sometimes gullible, but never stupid...he is loving, kind, a control freak, a hard working provider, a man who is understanding his limits (but still wants to surpass them)... he is tired. He is stressed. He is worried... and he is afraid.
This morning, I went and looked at an Assisted Care facility that specializes in Alzheimer's patients. We are at the point where my mother requires more than my father and her caregiver can provide. Yesterday, she locked him out of the house because he wouldn't give her the 3rd candy bar she wanted inside of 2 hours. His keys and the garage door opener were inside. He either had to climb a fence, or wait. He waited, she came back and opened the door. She's not able to manage her medication, but he's not able to be there every second of every day to manage them for her. She can no longer bathe herself, wash her own hair or deal with other personal hygeine issues all the time. She can't communicate beyond a few simple words or phrases, and she knows only a few limited people. Sometimes, she doesn't know who I am. She has no memory of my brother and sister at all. She needs 24 hour care, and he and one caregiver can't do it. I can't help enough to make a difference.
I was very impressed with the facility. Having a friend that's an RN that specialized in Alzheimer's care helps... she told me when this started what to look for when the time came... what to be leary of... and what to run away from with all haste. This place is as good as I've seen outside of a patient's ability to stay at home. I think she would adjust to it, and it would allow him to have a functional life as well... his health isn't perfect at 73, and the stress of all of this is impacting him - how could it not? With others in her situation around her all the time, she also would have a level of social interaction she doesn't have now. Constant attention, constant mental stimulation, the ability for her caregiver, friends and family to come and visit as we please and take her out as much as she and we want... and it's close. Within 10 miles of both my dad and I, and really halfway between us.
He asked what I thought about it... he planned to keep her at home as long as she knew who he was... but it's obvious with the way her condition has deteriorated in just the last week that he can't maintain the level of care required in their home. He doesn't want her to live elsewhere, and he's having the same struggle every person that has to make this decision has. I told him what he needed to hear, and gave (unnecessary) permission for him to do what needed to be done. For his health and sanity, and for her well-being. It's time.
So, now we move forward with the gradual process of getting her into this facility. We will have to wait for a few weeks, most likely - they are currently full (only 16 units in the facility), but have a transfer occurring within the next 6 weeks or so that will empty a room. It will be my mother's room.
I suppose it's hard to understand if you've never been faced with this type of situation. My mother was gone a year ago, at least. We now have to deal with a person that is still functioning, but she's not the person we have always known. We don't even see glimmers of good days versus bad days... they are all the same. Progressively, alarmingly worse. Gone are the things she took the most joy in: reading, playing golf, cooking, entertaining, visiting friends, supporting her family, traveling, shopping, driving, laughing until she cried at silly or dirty jokes... just being the beautiful, fun-loving, family oriented, infuriating woman that she has always been.
Over time, she has been the miraculous nurse that healed all wounds with a simple kiss... the Valkyrie that would battle the school, another mom or anyone else that would DARE do harm to HER child... the Confessor to whom all secrets were told and with whom they would be kept to the grave, no matter WHAT... the Advisor on matters of men, life and children... the Conspirator with whom trouble could be sought... and now the child who needs care in return. I have run the gamut of emotion with her as well... she's been the only one I could turn to, the one I trust in all things... the one in whom I could never trust... and the one I miss.
