freedom for Dad

Christie and I visited my dad one day last week. He's living on his own now since his brother (and roommate for some 40+ years) recently died. My uncle had lived well into his 80s, so it wasn't a tragic death. His heart just gave up after a long illness. But neverthess Dad is now on his own.

Without my uncle to rule the roost, as he surely did, my dad has a new freedom. Sure, he misses having my uncle to talk to, but he's calling me more now which is allowing me to get to know him better. And he's been going out every day, which is something he pretty much avoided due to a lifelong battle with anxiety/depression.

If you recall, Dad spent the better part of 2009 in the hospital after having fallen at home. His arthritis has crippled him where he can barely walk on his own anymore. Other complications prevented him from being discharged for the longest time. Besides, he was not able to get around, and my uncle was too frail to be of much help at home. So, until my dad could build up his strength, he was kept in the hospital.

All that time without my uncle telling him what to do, and what to think, my dad seemed to open up in many ways. He seemed genuinely happy at the last hospital he was at. He had a private room overlooking the city skyline. It was clean, quiet and he had dressed it up with a lot of his own things that visitors brought from his home.

The nurses just adored Dad and hung his photos (photography's his hobby) all over the ward. It made my dad so proud which is a huge deal for a man who never felt good about himself. The nurses would tell me what a sweet man he is, and it really touched me. For the first time I felt honored that he was my father. Sounds awful that that was the first time, but this is a man I never quite got to know as he was always so drugged up with meds. I grew up knowing that he was my father, but never felt a bond with him.

Things between my dad and me have been very superficial for my whole life. He has not been much of an influence, but maybe we'll get a short chance to have some kind of relationship now. He's getting older and more importantly, doesn't take very good care of himself. Plus, I am moving to California in a few months. So, if it doesn't happen now, it probably never will.

It's too late for me to tell him how to eat, remind him to exercise, all that's pointless. He drinks his Diet Coke by the gallon, eats no vegetables, and depends on meds to make him comfortable in every way possible. His approach towards health is very different from mine. But at least I can visit him and bring some happiness to his day. And I can clean his place. OMG pigsty. They were hoarders their whole lives, so there is barely room to sit when I do go there. Well, that's another story.

We had a nice visit with Dad. After scrubbing his kitchen and bathroom, he took us out to eat. My favorite part was seeing him happy, seeing him talk to the waitress, and enjoying his 4 cups of coffee and 3 egg omelet with cheese (roll eyes here). Things were going so swimmingly on this outing, that I decided it was time to tell him about the move.

"Dad, Christie and I have some exciting news... We're planning a move."

Dad smiles big. "You're moving back here?"

"No Dad, a big move."

"To California?"

Now I smile big..."Yeah."

He launches into a 5 minute story about the purchase of his zoom lens, where he bought it 5 years ago, how much it cost, etc etc. All the while I'm thinking how strange this is, but it's not. Not strange at all considering this is my dad.

Another 10 minutes go by. Dad pipes in, "Well I'm disappointed about your exciting news. But I hope you find all that you're looking for there."

"Thanks, Dad." And really all I can do is reassure him that we'll be back home to visit a couple times a year.

"And there's always the telephone," he adds.

"Of course."