Notes from Maine - 2020/11/27
Sometimes when I write a book, I get lost. It doesn’t happen too often, thankfully, because it’s disturbing. I find myself wandering through the world I’ve imagined and I don’t know how to get out. I lose track of what’s important and where the story is.
When you see the imaginary world through a character’s eyes, it can feel like everything is important. It’s easier to look back when all the dust has settled and find the real story.
That’s what happened when I wrote Extinct. I followed dozens of threads that led nowhere and I pared out lots of events and conversations that I couldn’t justify. When I finally “finished” the second draft, I had pulled out several chunks and set them aside. Later, I found that I wanted to go back and tell the story of how Robby and Judy survived and found each other, so I put those pieces into a novella called Black Friday. It seemed perfect to offer this book for free to you today.
Today has been challenging so far. I’m not waiting in line for a sale price on a TV or anything—I’ve spent the morning on the phone. My father is living at home now with personal care assistants who visit him. He’s getting around okay and doesn’t appear to be a danger to himself. He worked very hard to achieve this level of independence and I’m happy that I was able to help facilitate this chapter of his life.
My brother lives closest to Dad, so he is doing shopping and paying bills. It’s a lot of work. I’m thrilled that my brother is willing and able to take that on.
Dad is less thrilled.
Today, he’s lashing out because we’re not letting him drive (he is incapable of even getting in his vehicle alone, but logic is not on the table). He also accused my brother of stealing because he’s handling the bills. I have power of attorney, so I’m actually the one signing the checks. When I explained all of this, Dad told me that he was close to disavowing both of us. I told him that I understood how difficult this must be and he hung up.
I’m reminding myself that he is completely justified in being frustrated and angry. His physical and mental decline have put him in a horrible situation. He’s lashing out at us, but we’re not the ones who he’s really angry with. The real target of his ire is the simple nature of aging and chaos, and you can’t win that argument no matter how hard you try.
We’re lucky that we have a person there who really cares for him. She has tons of experience dealing with older people, and she has been through these types of circumstances before. She’s reminding Dad that we’re doing our best for him even when it doesn’t feel that way. He’s going to be angry and I’m not going to be able to talk him out of it. Maybe he just needs something to argue about. Maybe this is energizing for him.
I hope you’re doing well—trying to stay sane & healthy.
