I thought it was a joke. I guess it wasn't

Today with my father started poorly with me calling him to say the latest contractor/estimator had called and asked to reschedule his appointment from 1 - 4 pm to 11-12 pm.  I told my dad that I had accepted this new appointment time since 1) it was better for him since he has a friend coming over this afternoon and 2) it was better for me since I wouldn't have to sit around for 3 hours at his house waiting on the contractor to show up.  His response was (and I quote) "Jesus Christ, no."  After I assured him that I would deal with the contractor and that he didn't need to even get involved to even say hello and that I would be at his house in advance but that I would wait in the driveway for the person to show up so as not to disturb his morning routine, he agreed that as long as he didn't need to be involved AT ALL it would be ok.

So, I went to his house and sat in the driveway with my crocheting and as it was a lovely day I enjoyed the sun and the cool temps and managed to find my crochet mistake and rip things out to correct it.  The contractor arrived and and after some grumbling and hostility my dad retreated to the kitchen and allowed us into the house.  Later, after the contractor had prepared his estimate my father invited us into the kitchen to discuss it.  I had warned the contractor that my dad was a bit gruff and grumpy and that his hostility was not with him but with me.  The contractor was very nice and tried to make some easy conversation with my father as he presented his work plan and estimate.  During the conversation he joked that he had four daughters and that was why he had no hair and he asked my dad how many children he had.  My dad replied "Just the one."  And then I continued in a joking manner "Yes, I'm the only one and I'm the greatest disappointment."  My father didn't make any comment..  He just stared straight ahead.

I know I was fishing for some recognition, I just wasn't prepared for the recognition that I received. So, breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out....... Namaste

Things I think about during the 5 minute drive from my house to my father's house

My dad lives about  a mile and a half  from my house.  When the kids were little it was wonderful to have my parents so nearby and the kids could even walk over to visit once they were old enough to cross the busy street.   Now that my dad is old it is nice that the trip can be made quickly and easily since I often do it multiple times each day.   While on the short drive over there things just pop into my head.

• I hope that I raised my kids to know that they can live anywhere they want and I hope they realize they have no obligation to me.   That is my gift to them and it was not a gift I was given.   It was always clear to me that the responsibility for my parents would be mine alone.  I am an only child so there is no one with whom to share the burden but more than that, ratings of  "she's such a good daughter" when in reference to other families were only given when the daughter had clearly subjugated her own needs for her parents needs - that she had moved home, that she had quit her job to care for them, that she had been the "good daughter".  So, my attainment of "good daughter" status is clearly dependent on how I handle this last task as I've been unable to get that rating  for anything else I've ever done.

• When I die I want it to be fast and unexpected.  I don't really want to die of old age and I don't want to get sick and fade away, I just want to be here one minute and not here the next.  It has to be hard for my father who, even though he is in basically good health, knows that he will not outlive his new furnace.

•  How on earth do people cope with all of this when they have young children or jobs?  I am busy all day long dealing with petty stuff - groceries, checking on him, arranging for maintenance, waiting on the maintenance people, fixing his computer, taking him some supper, fixing his computer (again, and again, and again), trips to the library for talking books, getting him a haircut, going to doctor/dentist appointment, back and forth to church.  The list is endless.....  Although this is not how I imagined spending my time during retirement I'm glad I don't have to squeeze it all in between children and work.  

• When should I (or has the time already passed) step in and "just say no" to him?  I feel like as long as he is mentally competent that I can't really overrule his wishes.  I just keep working to make things work for him and being thankful that he has sufficient money to cover the expenses.  

• I know other cultures venerate old people but I don't I think that old people should have any more claim on our time and resources than, say, children, or teenagers, or middle-aged folks.  They have different needs that must be met but why are their needs higher on the scale than those of others?  I don't mean we should put them on an ice flow and let them drift away, but why are we allowing them to suck up all the medical resources when many children can't get basic medical care.   I really dislike the AARP and all their lobbying efforts which don't have any balance on what is good for the entire population.  We have people far more at risk than most of the elderly.  I hate the sense of 'entitlement' that is held by many of the elderly. 

• I hope I have the good sense to move from my home and make lifestyle changes before my kids have to step in and make me do it.  I have made it clear that I am extracting no promises from them regarding my care.  They are free to step in and make me do it when they think that they should. My mother was blackmailed by my grandmother with the "please don't put my in a nursing home" plea.  And my mother didn't and my grandmother's care was a constant worry.   My father clearly won't make a move to a place where he would be safer and  would provide me far more peace of mind.  He doesn't seem to realize or, maybe more truthfully, care that it isn't only his life he is impacting. 

Now for a moment of public bitching.....  I know I should keep this stuff to myself, showing grace and patience, but I just can't.  I need to publicly shout the things that I can't shout at my father or I may explode at him in a spew of vitriol that I can't control.

My father is almost 92, is in good health except for using a walker and has all his mental faculties.   He continues to live in his own home because 1) it is nice and big and it is his and he has lived there for over 30 years, and 2) it is across the street from his girlfriend.  It is an old house and it needs a considerable amount of maintenance.  My father is much better at making money than at spending it.  It needed a new kitchen when my parents moved in and it still needs a new kitchen.  It needed new bathrooms when they moved in and it still needs new bathrooms.  These updates have not been postponed for lack of money but because my father just doesn't want to part with his money.  Because this is now an old house that has not had the requisite remodeling done it continues to deteriorate.  And because it is an old home it doesn't have a bathroom on the first level so consequently he must climb up stairs each time he needs to use the bathroom.  He is also basically blind, having macular degeneration and blindness due to glaucoma (which grew progressively worse because he didin't like putting in the eyedrops so I have only limited sympathy for this).

Because of the stairs, blindness, and concerns about him cooking for himself I have hoped that he would move into a nice retirement apartment building close to his house.  He has been on the waiting list for a two bedroom apartment there for over a year.  (This place is highly sought after, you basically have to wait for someone to die to get in.)  They finally had a two bedroom apartment available which we went to see today.  It is actually the BEST two-bedroom apartment in the place because it is one of  the very few with a balcony.  It was a lovely apartment, he could choose on a per-meal basis to eat in the dining room, they have lovely reception and common areas, a van to go to shops and errands, and he has friends who live there.  He turned it down.

So we return to his home and I start on my list of fixes that need to be done to try to make his home safer for him to remain.  Make arrangements to have a backup electric generator installed, have stair elevators installed, find a personal chef (who will probably only last through one meal prep session since he will find fault with everything), and a lot more smaller fixes.  This still doesn't solve the problem that the cleaning lady does an awful job keeping things clean and he lives alone and can't see but I can't tackle everything at once.  I tell him I'm heading to the grocery store and ask what he needs.  He opens the pantry to take stock and it is like an Alfred Hitchkok movie about ants.  They are everywhere!  Now I had just sprayed for ants yesterday where I saw a little trail of them but from this is clear they have invaded like a conquering army. 

So after a trip to the grocery, a trip to the hardware store for ant spray, removal of everything from the pantry, and spraying everythng with ant spray and cleaning all the shelves and putting down ant traps, and calling an exterminator, he still doesn't understand why I think that he would be better off in the retirement apartment and that the house is really too much for him (and for me).

Now off to shower and hopefully get rid of the feeling that things are crawling all over me.

I've been in Florida during the George Zimmerman trial and got suckered into watching portions of it on TV.  It was on every major station so if you turned on the tv at any point during the day that was all you had to watch.  It was fascinating.  The prosecution did a totally piss poor job even to my untrained eyes, and the defense lawyer was a complete and total ass.  I guess that what they pay him to be but I just wanted to slap him. 

It was pretty clear that the prosecution hadn't managed to make their points or provide a coherent explanation on why George Zimmerman's acount of the night didn't make sense and even I would have probably had to return a not-guilty verdict on second degree murder based on the evidence presented.  The manslaughter charge should have been the initial charge and if they had done that they may have won that one.

But, as my daughter pointed out, the real lesson here was that it allowed me to find out which of my friends are racists. The conversations during the trial, and it really was a major topic of every conversation down here in Florida, gave insights into peoples' perceptions and fears of young black males that were so saddening and disheartening. Many of these people have never had a actual personal or friendly relationship with African-Americans, especially young men.  The young men who serve them at the local McDonald's are probably the closest they have ever been.  These white folks have no context except their longstanding belief that these kids and families are somehow different and dangerous and they firmly believe that Trayvon was a thug in training who had some kind of superpower that made George Zimmerman so fearful of him that he "had" to shoot him.  That's because these folks don't see that Trayvon was just like their kid, if their kid wore a hoodie and ate skittles and iced tea.

movie recommendation

Watched "Nowhere in Africa" on Neflix instant streaming tonight.  A German film from 2001, the original title was "Nirgendwo in Afrika".  It won the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film for 2002.  I highly recommend it.  The advertised plot is that a German Jewish family flees to Kenya just before WWII to work on a farm.  Although critical to the film the real story is the difficult decisions that people must make in their lives. 

some things are forever

Overheard while sitting on the porch:

Two little girls walking by, one about six and the other eleven.  The older one asks the  younger, "What's your favorite TV show?"

The younger responds, "I like 'I Love Lucy'.  Have you ever heard of that?" and then she continues to provide a great synopsis of the show!

Lucille Ball is forever.

I used to love reading "News of the Weird" in the Washington DC City Paper.  Now all I have to do is read the Washington Post.

God is Opposed to Food Stamps?

GOP Lawmaker:  Rate of Pregnancies From Rape is "very low"