There are a zillion things I could be doing to prepare for my father’s move to his new apartment tomorrow. But I’m afraid that all the commotion will make Dad uneasy. Then, he might not sleep well, which would mean I wouldn’t sleep well either. It is as much self-preservation as empathy for Dad that makes me want to have a laid-back kind of day.
On the other hand, I think, I might try engaging Dad in a bit of the work. Cleaning out his bedside drawers, where several years worth of old receipts are stashed, would be a good project for today. No, I decide; decisions about scraps of paper would likely end in an argument, and I want to be calm to help him stay calm.
Instead, I aim for a normal day – a nap late morning, lunch, sitting on the sun porch, watching a little TV, and then dinner – Sis-in-law’s fabulous ravioli with a side of lemon-herb broccoli.
It was after dinner that reality set in and Dad finally found a voice and words to ask questions: Where is this new place? What’s the layout? Who will live there with me? Will I have to share a bathroom? What…no kitchen? No refrigerator? What if I want something to eat or drink? Will there be nurses meddling in my things? Will there be a lock on the door? Will I have a telephone? Who decided I wouldn’t have a phone? How much will this place cost?
Most of these were pretty reasonable questions and I answered each one truthfully but as simply as possible. I also explained that a CNA will stay with him tomorrow while the movers and “his decorators” – me and the sisters – get his suite ready for him. Then we’ll take him down there.
I hope and pray he’ll be pleasantly surprised and that all of us will be blessed with patience and grace as we go through this transition.
Sue
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment