temperance14 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
temperance14) wrote2005-05-17 01:00 am
temperance14) wrote2005-05-17 01:00 am
Where you wander
Would love to catch up about Earth Day, Life Day, and Placerville Day...
...but first, a word from my family.
(A cut about family dynamics and parental care. No, it's not fun, nor about dances or sith, nor does it have a meme--but it's what happens in my life and it is what was going on in my head while trying to keep my unbloomerness and red notepad hidden in the El Dorado Foothills.)
I mentioned in a prior blathery post (Apr 23) that I have an aging, father with rapidly advancing senility. Also have arrogant yuppie brother--also ref'd in same LJ cut.
Dad was (still is?) a dominanting, threatening, explosive control freak--but is now aging and needs our help.
Brother managed to avoid imitating violent behavior. But he did learn to indulge himself, and in uber-yuppie fashion, does so to the point of relying on the resources and bailouts of others—“borrowing” massive amounts of their time, and money. He's a non-violent, smooth, manipulating control freak.
My dad--I don't like him for what he did, but feel sorry for his aging condition now.
My brother--I feel sorry for the violent conditions he lived through, but don't like how he uses people now.
******
I have been trying all evening to write down what has been happening in my family—but I cannot. I cannot keep it in an orderly, paced fashion for entertaining reading. I cannot do it as a clear concise explanation of the frustrations, shame, fear, hypocrisy—oh, it’s an assortment. Suffice that I cannot not express those feelings in a well-written essay with precise, elegant or inspiring words. I’ve tried once before in that previous LJ to just explain the feelings as they flowed out of my head; to capture the tangle and twists in my mind as I try to sort this out for right/wrong, ethics, morals, familial ties. It was simple a gush of slop, of flooding emotions. All it gave a picture of was a confused, unraveling mind—mine, not my fathers. My complaints of my brother’s behavior come forth as nothing more than a spoiled rant.
Summary: We pushed, and I was pushed, and I pushed others, to get all the need procedures done. My brother informed me of another vacation his family would take, so that I had to take a few more days off, and rent another minivan to visit my father.
Each visit, in the last few months, I have found Dad more confused. It varies with his energy level and amount of sleep, nutrition (? perhaps—I think it varies with his blood sugar level ), and time of day (I did not think this was Alzheimers—not again, please—but he so seems to have the restlessness of ‘Sundowners’). In the last 3 months he has managed to forget on occasion that my brother has been married for 12 years, (we’ve already gotten used to his forgetting sister-in-law’s name—unless he’s ticked off at her---and forgetting the grandkids names). Thought my brother was his late brother Donny occasionally.
[Past note: The day I came back from Waltz Workshop in Sunnyvale, I got a call from him. Wanted to know where Mom was. I think this was the first time he forgot. Maybe he thought she was back in the hospital. I should have pressed him gently to find out where he thought she was. I reminded him she passed away back in Dec 2002. “Oh yeah. Yeah, I forgot that for a moment.” Chatted with him. Hung up the phone. Walked into the living room and started crying. I knew that question would arise one day; I just didn’t expect it that day.]
At least I was better prepared for this past week. Drove down to San Jose on Thursday to help my brother move the furniture to the Assisted Living Facility. Brother had pushed back the moving date again, so that I had to change work schedule. When I arrived, he informed me that he probably wouldn’t move Dad in on Friday as planned, that it would be done Saturday, and told me what I would be doing that day.
I know this was selfish of me, but I finally protested. I don’t get vacations the way my brother does. I was looking forward to Placerville as a mini vacation, just an overnight, as ‘detox time’ from all this. My brother realized I wouldn’t accept this time (and that this was the 3rd time in 2 months he had rearranged my weekend schedule per his planning).
I was assigned to stay overnight with Dad. That Thursday night, I snapped awake at 1:30am to find him tapping my ankle to awaken me. (“Dad! What?! What’s up?!” “Well, it was so quiet up here, I wanted to make sure you were ok.” “Dad, I was quiet because I was asleep!” “Oh, ok.”) OK, that’s funny now---thought I was going to have a freaking heart attack at the time, though.
Hit the final memory hurdle the next morning, driving to breakfast—he forgot who I was. He knew me, knew I was family. But for some reason that morning while we drove to breakfast, he shifted into thinking that I was his sister, my Aunt Cathy. What a great baby sister I was. And I spent a minute explaining to him that I was his daughter. Reminding him that he had a daughter. (“Really? My daughter?” “Yes, Dad. I’m 46.”). I was ready for that one, was ok.
Two days with my Dad; felt like I was in the Twilight Zone. We got everything and Dad settled in to the A.L., and then I left Friday late afternoon. Over three freaking hours from San Jose to Fairfield. Was going to drive straight to Fairfield, shower, change, load the camping gear----and by 9pm realized I was going to be too damned tired and fried to find the fair grounds, Ellen and Dave, a campsite—let alone put up a tent without a tent spike through my foot. Just stared at the steering wheel in the car, drove to Raleys, and bought oranges, came home, and made a smoothie. Too damn tired to cry.
And that’s why I came up Saturday, and it’s 12:50 Tuesday morning and I’m sleepy.
OK, back to the proper Live Journal notes tomorrow.
...but first, a word from my family.
(A cut about family dynamics and parental care. No, it's not fun, nor about dances or sith, nor does it have a meme--but it's what happens in my life and it is what was going on in my head while trying to keep my unbloomerness and red notepad hidden in the El Dorado Foothills.)
I mentioned in a prior blathery post (Apr 23) that I have an aging, father with rapidly advancing senility. Also have arrogant yuppie brother--also ref'd in same LJ cut.
Dad was (still is?) a dominanting, threatening, explosive control freak--but is now aging and needs our help.
Brother managed to avoid imitating violent behavior. But he did learn to indulge himself, and in uber-yuppie fashion, does so to the point of relying on the resources and bailouts of others—“borrowing” massive amounts of their time, and money. He's a non-violent, smooth, manipulating control freak.
My dad--I don't like him for what he did, but feel sorry for his aging condition now.
My brother--I feel sorry for the violent conditions he lived through, but don't like how he uses people now.
******
I have been trying all evening to write down what has been happening in my family—but I cannot. I cannot keep it in an orderly, paced fashion for entertaining reading. I cannot do it as a clear concise explanation of the frustrations, shame, fear, hypocrisy—oh, it’s an assortment. Suffice that I cannot not express those feelings in a well-written essay with precise, elegant or inspiring words. I’ve tried once before in that previous LJ to just explain the feelings as they flowed out of my head; to capture the tangle and twists in my mind as I try to sort this out for right/wrong, ethics, morals, familial ties. It was simple a gush of slop, of flooding emotions. All it gave a picture of was a confused, unraveling mind—mine, not my fathers. My complaints of my brother’s behavior come forth as nothing more than a spoiled rant.
Summary: We pushed, and I was pushed, and I pushed others, to get all the need procedures done. My brother informed me of another vacation his family would take, so that I had to take a few more days off, and rent another minivan to visit my father.
Each visit, in the last few months, I have found Dad more confused. It varies with his energy level and amount of sleep, nutrition (? perhaps—I think it varies with his blood sugar level ), and time of day (I did not think this was Alzheimers—not again, please—but he so seems to have the restlessness of ‘Sundowners’). In the last 3 months he has managed to forget on occasion that my brother has been married for 12 years, (we’ve already gotten used to his forgetting sister-in-law’s name—unless he’s ticked off at her---and forgetting the grandkids names). Thought my brother was his late brother Donny occasionally.
[Past note: The day I came back from Waltz Workshop in Sunnyvale, I got a call from him. Wanted to know where Mom was. I think this was the first time he forgot. Maybe he thought she was back in the hospital. I should have pressed him gently to find out where he thought she was. I reminded him she passed away back in Dec 2002. “Oh yeah. Yeah, I forgot that for a moment.” Chatted with him. Hung up the phone. Walked into the living room and started crying. I knew that question would arise one day; I just didn’t expect it that day.]
At least I was better prepared for this past week. Drove down to San Jose on Thursday to help my brother move the furniture to the Assisted Living Facility. Brother had pushed back the moving date again, so that I had to change work schedule. When I arrived, he informed me that he probably wouldn’t move Dad in on Friday as planned, that it would be done Saturday, and told me what I would be doing that day.
I know this was selfish of me, but I finally protested. I don’t get vacations the way my brother does. I was looking forward to Placerville as a mini vacation, just an overnight, as ‘detox time’ from all this. My brother realized I wouldn’t accept this time (and that this was the 3rd time in 2 months he had rearranged my weekend schedule per his planning).
I was assigned to stay overnight with Dad. That Thursday night, I snapped awake at 1:30am to find him tapping my ankle to awaken me. (“Dad! What?! What’s up?!” “Well, it was so quiet up here, I wanted to make sure you were ok.” “Dad, I was quiet because I was asleep!” “Oh, ok.”) OK, that’s funny now---thought I was going to have a freaking heart attack at the time, though.
Hit the final memory hurdle the next morning, driving to breakfast—he forgot who I was. He knew me, knew I was family. But for some reason that morning while we drove to breakfast, he shifted into thinking that I was his sister, my Aunt Cathy. What a great baby sister I was. And I spent a minute explaining to him that I was his daughter. Reminding him that he had a daughter. (“Really? My daughter?” “Yes, Dad. I’m 46.”). I was ready for that one, was ok.
Two days with my Dad; felt like I was in the Twilight Zone. We got everything and Dad settled in to the A.L., and then I left Friday late afternoon. Over three freaking hours from San Jose to Fairfield. Was going to drive straight to Fairfield, shower, change, load the camping gear----and by 9pm realized I was going to be too damned tired and fried to find the fair grounds, Ellen and Dave, a campsite—let alone put up a tent without a tent spike through my foot. Just stared at the steering wheel in the car, drove to Raleys, and bought oranges, came home, and made a smoothie. Too damn tired to cry.
And that’s why I came up Saturday, and it’s 12:50 Tuesday morning and I’m sleepy.
OK, back to the proper Live Journal notes tomorrow.
no subject
My own head is strange, I suppose
Actually, it does make a difference, for, the physical disabilities that accompany Alz. Also, I hoping some of the recent memory loss might be result of diabetes. He has another appointment referral with another neurologist.
Very sorry about your grandfather--I remember you mentioned his illness once. 5 years? That's quite a long time with the disease. Mom had the form that took her word memory and verbal skills before her cognitive skills went--very frustrating.
Army base huh? You have to laugh sometimes. Mom found that a lot of the normal conversational inhibitions fade with the onset of Alzheimers. First time she told Dad to shut up when he was scolding her I nearly fell over. We told Dad he'd just have to excuse Mom, it was the disease. And then she and I would look at each other, and start giggling. She knew. I told her if there was a positive side to this disease, a license to be snotty was great!
Huggles to you. See you soon.
no subject