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Archive for the ‘Musings and Mom’ Category


Finally good news on the Dad front. He’s settling in to his new home in a senior’s residence 20 min from my house. Ideal. No more stress living in a large house. No more paranoia staring out the window all day. Lots of peers around him, some worse off, some better. A nice suite, plenty large for him, private bathroom. It gets regular cleaning from the staff, unlike his house. Still blows my mind how Dad’s other son could let his father live in a house that reeked of mould and misery. Now Pop gets three squares a day, and I’m talking really good food! I’ve eaten there several times, no cafeteria tray bland food. This place has an in-house chef preparing tasty food and pastries. So now we can get him a new set of teeth so he can enjoy that food. Going for the first form fitting for new dentures this week. Sadly the previous caregiver who lived under the same roof neglected most of Dad’s personal care and needs. And it is so refreshing to not have to make 3 hr one way drives every week to attend to Dad issues. Wonder if the brother will ever bother to come and visit his father? At his convenience of course! We lucked out and got the last suite in this 3 year old building. No long-term health care facility kind of smell or vibe. Feels like a beautiful condo, which it basically is. Hopefully will add a few more good years to Dad’s life. Dad and lilacs

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It’s been a while. I’ve been remiss. Sorry readers for lagging behind in blogging. So many issues have been clouding my time. But also some moments of absolute fun and joy! Threw a surprise birthday party for wife and son. Surprise for wife, son in on the trick. It was a delight. A gathering of friends from miles around. When wife’s girlfriends from childhood arrived in their humongous camper trailer, it was beautiful seeing wife’s jaw drop. And when one drives 6 hours to party for 48 hrs, you can bet there is very little down time! Had an absolute blast with the northern amigos. And in a couple weeks we’ll return the favor, drive 6 hours to surprise Norm on his 50th.
We’re delighting in a stretch of beautiful weather. Mid to high 20’s and sun all day for the past several, with another 7 days upcoming. The kind of summer that keeps one away from generating revenue. Still half a step in front of the creditors, still keeping the wolves at bay. Miss my dog. Almost 8 months passed since he took a wrong turn onto thin ice, chasing the damn fox. RIP Blue. We all miss you.

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Here we are. Monday. Still so much to do. Get steamer and clean carpets. Buy new underpadding. Call Lifeline. Make follow up eye dr appointment re cataracts/glaucoma. Go to Sears buy dryer. Paint final coat ceiling. Source therapy pools. Continue weeding garden. The more I write the longer the to-do list gets. Stacks of garbage are sitting curbside. Hope there is a generous garbage guy. Ill even help him load.
And Dad’s memory is worsening daily. But at least his spirits are up. Wait and see if PSW has the skill and patience to make this work. Because it is quite evident from observing Roland that he will continue in his self absorbed narcissism and give Dad minimal attention. I suppose that is probably for the better. Less contact means less likelihood of messing up Dad’s days. Countdown begins.

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http://www.tothisdayproject.com/

 

 

 

 

 

 

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I have a distinct memory of that moment.  Sept 28, 1972.  I was in the Moosehead Tavern in Hamilton.  Barton St. if memory serves me, as I don’t think that fine establishment is any longer there.  We skipped class, I and many, I mean many other classmates.  The bar was packed.  Barkeeps and the bartender never asked for ID.  We were so totally underage, but it didn’t matter that day.  It was a nation of hockey  and coming together.  Quaffing 25 cent drafts by the tray.  I think there were two TV’s in the whole bar.  And one of them was a black & white.  The color monitor couldn’t have been larger than a 30″ screen.  But it seemed like we were there.  In Moscow.  Cheering on our nation.  And when Genderson scored that goal, the goal, the tavern erupted.  Beer glasses flying, a volcano of joyful celebration.

Yeah, I remember where I was.

 

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I can sacrifice a year of my life for my Dad.  It doesn’t seem like such a “sacrifice” when put in context of what he has endured in his lifetime.  How can I put him in a nursing home/retirement residence?  That option might be appropriate for others but not for my Dad.  We have the space, I can make the time, together we can find the money to provide 24/7 care when that becomes necessary.  I’ve seen other cultures that never abandon their parents no matter what.  Yes, it will be inconvenient, even maddening and frustrating at times.  But how can you justify putting an old man out to pasture just because he got old?  Other societies never do it.  Why are we so quick to stretch our familial links so thin to the point where the tie just snaps.  And Dad’s become others.  Just another resident in that nursing home that reeks of impending death.

Dad spent a marvellous mini-vacation here and enjoyed it immensely.  Wanted to come right back.  Getting three good meals a day.  Companionship.  Mental stimulation.  Improved hygiene.  Things that he is not now getting at his own home.  It’s not fair to make a 91 year old man sit on his own all day, staring out the window.  Waiting for death.  In fact, it is unconscionable!  Yet that is what he returned to following the break at our house.  You can blame Alzheimer’s all you want.  That’s a cop out.  Seniors are no different that you or I.  They need those synapses to be stimulated.  The joints need to be exercised.  Muscles need energy and if food is not readily available, it all comes crashing down.  Some may get those things in the environs of a nursing home.  But if you can afford to have your parent living with you, then it is far preferable to dumping them off and making them somebody else’s responsibility.  So Dad, let me get the logistics all worked out.  You’re going to come live with us.  In the country.  In the fresh air.  In the same house as your grandson.  In a place where home is a thing you feel, not just bricks and mortar.

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