Bye Bye Dadio

Yesterday...

Well, my sister and BIL picked up Dad and all his stuff today. I had all his stuff packed.

Dad put on a warm shirt "because its cold out there".  It was 76 and humid...

BIL secures all the stuff.  We had to redo it because of Dad's rollercart.

Dad leaves the house ad Sister escorts Dad along the sidewalk.

Dad inspects the packing job and makes suggestions.

Dad finally gets in the car...

And then they all wave goodbye.  Dad waved behind the back window, but you can't see him.

And away they went...

I'm sad that that Dad is going to the final assisted living place.  So is he.  But he beat the odds, you know?  Not everyone reaches 91. He is proud of that, and I understand.  If I live another 28 years, I'll be his age.  I see my future in his stay with me.

Dad and I hugged before he got in the car.  We cried a bit.  Well, it was a serious year he stayed here, and I will never forget it.  But he knows what his future is, and so do I.

He is suffering dementia, but he's not stupid.  He KNOWS he doesn't understand things well anymore.  He KNOWS he forgets things.  Deep in his mind, he knows that things he thinks happen aren't accurate.  He's said so, he's talked of it.  As crazy and frustrating our discussions were at times, I understand how desperately he was trying to hang on to reality.  And I know that he appreciates that I was trying to help him there.  He said so, and I'm going to believe it.  For the rest of my life...

The last moments we were together alone, he thanked me for taking such good care of him the past "couple months".  Well, it was 11 months, but it wasn't a time to quibble.  I know he meant "a long time".  Sons and Fathers sometimes get awkward speaking to each other.

The assisted living facility is where he won't be challenged about time and accuracy of memories (which I did far too often).  They will know how to speak to him in only the present tense and avoid all the inconvenient discussions of the past that I could not avoid at times.

In the past year, I learned some things about his life that I never really knew before.  He did more civilian stuff in WWII than I realized.  Like building ships.  He had a patent on a gadget once.  He was a real mechanical engineer.  I knew some of that vaguely. but in our times, Dads didn't really bother to explain their careers to the kids.  That is precious.  He may have learned a few things about me, too.  Like I "know science stuff", that I'm a (sort of) writer (he read a couple short stories I got published in a semi-vanity press and said "your mother said you wrote good stuff, but I had never read them before (meaning that he didn't care for it himself, but was impressed I wrote it) and that was good enough for me.  He has admired all the daffodils he saw this last month that I planted in past years.  He was never here at this time of year before.  He said, "you care about beauty, like your Mom".

And he said he was surprised I like Escher prints (4 hanging on the walls the whole year).  Very "engineerish" he said.

I think it was all a final compliment as he left.  Things he never said to me before.  At 62, I don't really need validation. But I don't mind it either.  You probably can't ever not like validation from your Dad.

He will be a "resident", not a parent, at the assisted living facility.  Someone they will care for and not challenge sometimes in frustration as I sometimes did.  They will not care about (or know about) the parent/child dynamics.  And that will be good for him.  Dad will end his days only around people  like him to talk to and a staff dedicated to just taking care of him. 

And now I have to figure out what to do with this blog...

Vote for the best thing...

1.  Keep talking about Dad (what little I learn).
2.  Get back to the pre-Dad yardwork and house projects.
3.  Get WAY back and become a liberal political pest.