Update

Dec 24, 2007 19:56

I started back to work on December 10th. Yeah, I was at my wits’ end at that moment and for some time after. Sister, Brother, and I exhausted our resolve in arguing with Dad. We didn’t try to force a sitter on him, instead relying on each of us calling him every day and having his friend, Paul, and neighbor check in on him regularly. Thankfully, nothing rotten happened, and the therapists signed off on him last week, so Dad can now stay by himself without violating doctor’s orders.

Starting back to work was tough. After being out of the office for six weeks, it was hard to come back and slide back in to my groove. I had to remember everything I had forgotten, which was made all the more disheartening by the fact that I hadn’t fully acclimated to my position when I left. Not only that, because I started back on the tenth I had ten less days to meet my deadlines. Miraculously, I’ve caught up with everything.

Brother flew in this last Friday, and we spent the weekend cooking our Christmas dinner (we ate early since he had to leave today). More importantly, Brother and I cooked the dinner while Dad instructed us. In other words, I now know my parent’s Thanksgiving/Christmas recipes. The thought of losing some of those family recipes is unsettling.

Dad has made progress. His vision is still impaired, which is his main, if only, hindrance. He needs me to come every weekend and buy his groceries. It’s aggravating because my doing so will just prolong his emotional dependency on me. I’m exhausted by the whole dilemma. When I’m at his house, I resent him. When I’m away from him, I feel guilty. When I’m in route to or from him, I feel guilty for resenting him and resent him for making me feel guilty. Like I said it’s exhausting. When he was throwing a tantrum about not having a sitter, he was griping that he didn’t need anyone. Once we gave in, he asks me to come home on my weekends to do his shopping. That’s not what you can call “not needing anyone.” Maybe I sound like a crotchety old miser, but coming home every single weekend eats about $100 in gas money a month. That $100 could have been enjoyed or saved. Not to mention that the more I drive the more maintenance my car needs. Those tune-ups and oil/tire changes can drain everything I’ve saved over several months. I finally have a place of my own, too. I need to make it feel like my home. Coming home to a bare apartment is depressing. Dad doesn’t like it either, but his solution is for me to come home every spare moment. Coming home every weekend isn’t going to make my place more hospitable. Saturday and Sunday would be my days to do that, along with errands, groceries, cleaning, etc. so that stuff doesn’t get crammed into the week.

I kind of know what to do. I may just come home on a Saturday and stock his pantry to last a month, then go back that same day. Paul takes him out during the week, so perhaps he can stop by a store and pick up perishables as he needs them (milk, orange juice, etc).

I feel bad, like I’m abandoning him. I just can’t bear this weight anymore. Dad needs to fully recover. He needs to become physically and emotionally self sustaining.
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