Spoke too soon
Dad’s not doing well in assisted living. According to Sister, he’s pitiful; he’s obsessed about when she’ll come back. He can’t stand being alone. He doesn’t understand why he can’t go home. He’s so much younger than everyone else there. Furthermore, the place won’t likely meet his nutritional needs for his physical rehabilitation (all they gave him for breakfast was a bowl of Cheerios and a donut). Sister is taking him out of assisted living; Dad will stay with her until we know our next move.
None of us know what to do. We’re faced with all these solutions that just don’t seem to be able to work. Dad’s sister offered to take him, but it’ll be the same problem. That is, he doesn’t want to live with his sister, we wants to go home. That dilemma will pop up in whichever assisted living/rehab center we put him in. He can’t stay by himself. As I’ve mentioned, we don’t feel comfortable leaving Dad at home a lone with a stranger in his current state of mind. Reluctantly, I think the solution may be myself.
I’m thinking that maybe I should leave my job and stay with Dad until he recovers. After all, this job isn’t going to be my career; it’s just supposed to provide money and work experience until what I’m waiting for comes through. When Mom died, she left me an inheritance, which has been sitting in a bank and gradually being funnelled into a Roth IRA. On that alone, I can easily cover my own food, gas, and insurance during Dad’s recuperation.
I do have some concerns, though. First of all, I don’t know how to cook. I can effortlessly sustain myself via the freeze it/nuke it food stuffs along with fruits and granola bars, but I wouldn’t know how to take care of my dad’s nutritional needs. Secondly, I do need to stay in shape for my PT tests, so I’d have to get some time apart from Dad for, ideally, a couple of hours a day, five days a week. Those two obstacles can be easily overcome. The last one is much more arduous.
I hate that house. I don’t want to sound melodramatic, but I genuinely can’t stand it. I know I sound like an ingrate, but I’m being earnest. That house has always been like a prizon to me. When I was a kid and had no friends, I just stayed home all the time. I was trapped in that house. When I was in middle school and had no friends, I continued to be trapped in that house. When I was in high school, the pattern continued and I was trapped in that house. When I transferred to my home town’s community college, I was trapped in that house. Granted, that time wasn’t so bad, namely because I was counting down going to the university, anticipating irreversible freedom from that house and all the boredom and isolation that accompanied it. When Mom died during my summer break of 2005, I found myself trapped in that house once again. I thought I was finally free, unfettered. Now, the more I think about it, the more I feel like my going back there is the only real solution.
Of course, I also increasingly feel like that house is going to become my tomb. Dad doesn’t want me to be an adult. Even after I finished graduate school, he wanted me to stay at home indefinitely just so I could save money. When I told Dad about how I was having to move out of my current place, he once again said that he felt that I should be living with him. It looks like he may just get his wish. I don’t want this situation to perpetuate itself and find myself 30 years old, unemployed, and living at home. I feel especially embarassed when I see everyone else I know moving forward, getting married, starting careers, etc. It's like life's current is carrying everyone else forward, but holding me in place. I realize I’m overdoing it. I need to draw the line at getting upset about things that haven’t actually happened. I know God is in control, and I just have to do the right thing and wait patiently. I woudn’t mind getting some encouragement, but I don’t think that’s going to happen. After all, real faith holds onto its beliefs in the face of discouragement. Mayb e that’s what this is all about.
How come the easy thing and the right thing are never the same thing?
None of us know what to do. We’re faced with all these solutions that just don’t seem to be able to work. Dad’s sister offered to take him, but it’ll be the same problem. That is, he doesn’t want to live with his sister, we wants to go home. That dilemma will pop up in whichever assisted living/rehab center we put him in. He can’t stay by himself. As I’ve mentioned, we don’t feel comfortable leaving Dad at home a lone with a stranger in his current state of mind. Reluctantly, I think the solution may be myself.
I’m thinking that maybe I should leave my job and stay with Dad until he recovers. After all, this job isn’t going to be my career; it’s just supposed to provide money and work experience until what I’m waiting for comes through. When Mom died, she left me an inheritance, which has been sitting in a bank and gradually being funnelled into a Roth IRA. On that alone, I can easily cover my own food, gas, and insurance during Dad’s recuperation.
I do have some concerns, though. First of all, I don’t know how to cook. I can effortlessly sustain myself via the freeze it/nuke it food stuffs along with fruits and granola bars, but I wouldn’t know how to take care of my dad’s nutritional needs. Secondly, I do need to stay in shape for my PT tests, so I’d have to get some time apart from Dad for, ideally, a couple of hours a day, five days a week. Those two obstacles can be easily overcome. The last one is much more arduous.
I hate that house. I don’t want to sound melodramatic, but I genuinely can’t stand it. I know I sound like an ingrate, but I’m being earnest. That house has always been like a prizon to me. When I was a kid and had no friends, I just stayed home all the time. I was trapped in that house. When I was in middle school and had no friends, I continued to be trapped in that house. When I was in high school, the pattern continued and I was trapped in that house. When I transferred to my home town’s community college, I was trapped in that house. Granted, that time wasn’t so bad, namely because I was counting down going to the university, anticipating irreversible freedom from that house and all the boredom and isolation that accompanied it. When Mom died during my summer break of 2005, I found myself trapped in that house once again. I thought I was finally free, unfettered. Now, the more I think about it, the more I feel like my going back there is the only real solution.
Of course, I also increasingly feel like that house is going to become my tomb. Dad doesn’t want me to be an adult. Even after I finished graduate school, he wanted me to stay at home indefinitely just so I could save money. When I told Dad about how I was having to move out of my current place, he once again said that he felt that I should be living with him. It looks like he may just get his wish. I don’t want this situation to perpetuate itself and find myself 30 years old, unemployed, and living at home. I feel especially embarassed when I see everyone else I know moving forward, getting married, starting careers, etc. It's like life's current is carrying everyone else forward, but holding me in place. I realize I’m overdoing it. I need to draw the line at getting upset about things that haven’t actually happened. I know God is in control, and I just have to do the right thing and wait patiently. I woudn’t mind getting some encouragement, but I don’t think that’s going to happen. After all, real faith holds onto its beliefs in the face of discouragement. Mayb e that’s what this is all about.
How come the easy thing and the right thing are never the same thing?