“Dad, I’ll stay in the house, and make sure everything stays in tip top shape. I will never let this house go. It’s our family home. I promise you.”
We stay hugged against each other for a few minutes, giving him the opportunity to calm down and listen to reason. I understand his frustration and wanting to hold on to the memory of his wife, but right now his health is depleting. It must come first, and she would want that. Leaving everything you know, to an unknown place can be scary, but I will be there for him every step of the way.
Hazel gets off the bed, allowing me the chance to escape, too, and we leave him alone as our feet make the staircase squeak some more on the way down.
“Is he okay?” Aiden asks. “I hate this for your dad.”
I nod, and go to the kitchen, preparing myself a small cup of coffee for the day we are about to go through. It’s not only going to be exhausting for him, but for us as well. We don’t want to do this, but with his episodes getting worse, we have no choice. Waiting around would be dangerous. I know many parents get thrown into nursing homes because their kids don’t want to take care of them, and that isn’t us at all. If it wasn’t for the episodes, he would just continue living with me, and the nurse could assist, but the chance of violent episodes are something to think about in this case. When he has these, it’s not our father in there, he doesn’t know who we are. This only heightens the chance of him being violent if he finds an unfamiliar person in his home. We can’t take that chance, and as much as he is against it, our father wouldn’t want to put that risk on us.
“What should we do? We are supposed to be there in thirty-minutes. Should I call and reschedule for later?” I ask.
She shakes her hand, puts down the coffee cup on the island, and heads toward the stairs, but then we hear his door open, and footsteps coming down the hall.
“Kids, before we go, we need to discuss something. Have a seat.”
Hazel and I look at each other and sit down as asked. I’m not sure what he is going to say, and I can’t take anymore tears right now.
“I will go, but you should know where my important documents are in case something happens. In the filing cabinet in your mother’s old office is my will and life insurance paperwork.”
Hazel scoffs. “Don’t talk like that. You are going to a facility. It doesn’t mean you’re dying tomorrow.”
My dad knows his episodes are getting worse. Nobody wants to wake up and not be able to take care of themselves.
“At any rate, I’m not getting any younger and with this disease, my time is limited. Please keep the house in the family. Your mother bought this house hoping to hand it down to our kids. Don’t let it go.”
I put my hand on his shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He stands up from the recliner, and shifts his pants. “Okay, I’m ready. Let’s get this over with, shall we.”
Why does my heart hurt walking out the door? A piece of me wants to take care of him and not have to do this, but the other side also understands the progression. No matter what I want, we need to do what’s best for him. If he were to hurt someone during one of his episodes, he could never live with himself.
We all pile up into my truck, and head to the facility. Dad just stares out the window, and I can’t even remember the last time he got out of the house. Poor man. He turns up the radio, and doesn’t say a word, just stares out the window and lets the breeze hit his face.
When we come up on the sign for Grapevine Memory Care, he sighs, and sits up straight until we come to a stop in our parking spot. Dad unbuckles and gets out of the car.
Hazel takes his hand in hers, and walks up to the double doors, holding it open for him, and we all step inside to the wide open area. We see residents around, and most look to be much older than dad.
There are four women sitting in chairs by the front door, and they are babbling away while crocheting. They seem to have a good time. It catches dad’s eye, and he looks back at me.
“I’m not taking up crocheting.”
I laugh in response. “You don’t have to.”
“Hi, Can I help you?” a woman asks, walking up to us. And that’s when I realize it’s Raquel.
“Yeah, we have an appointment for my father, Donald,” Hazel replies.
She double takes me, and then responds. “Oh, yes. Right this way.”
Things just keep getting worse for us. Not only is she related to one of my coworkers, but now she is going to be working where my dad will be living. I know Grapevine is small, but not that damn small. The universe fucking hates me.
I watch her ass sway in the skirt she is wearing, and notice the wondrous curves god gave her. It’s been a while, and it’s not against the law to stare at a beautiful woman.
“This is the main common area,” she says, her hands gesturing toward a vast room with three televisions, plenty of recliners, and some tables and chairs where there are people playing card games and watching the news. “And if you follow me next door… this is the eating area. We serve breakfast from 4:30 to 7:00 in the morning, lunch from eleven to one in the afternoon and then dinner starts at five and ends around seven as well.”
My eyes search my dad’s to see how he is doing. His hands are by his side in fists. Nobody is excited about living in an assisted living home, so I can’t blame him, but he knows it’s the best thing for him.
“And where would I sleep?”