Notes from Maine - 2020/07/06

This summer suddenly got very busy.

My sister, nephew, and my nephew’s father arrived and we’ve been having lots of fun. This isn’t a vacation for anyone (except perhaps my nephew)—everyone is working and so the house is occupied but divided into little pockets of activity. My sister left yesterday to return to Virginia, but she will be back later in the summer.

Until Friday, my father (83) was at a rehab facility. I have seen differing statements as to why he was released. On the phone, and to Medicare, they said that he had shown no improvement. They must have meant “no improvement since…” because earlier they had definitely tracked improvement. On his discharge papers, the reason listed was that he had reached the rehabilitation goal.

I brought him to my house. I’ve been working on getting people here to see if we can help him improve, and those schedules are ramping up this week. We’ve had some nice moments and some tough ones. Dad is worried about being a burden. Physically, that’s just not possible. I routinely lift more than his weight just for fun. Mentally, it’s more of a burden to think that he didn’t get a fair shot at recovery. I’m realistic that recovery might not be possible, but I need to feel that he got a chance. Anything less would be a burden that I would carry for a while.

Aside from therapy, I’m also talking to and lining up personal care helpers. I’m facilitating the conversations, but trying to make it clear to Dad that this is his money and these people will work for him. Mentally, I hope that this will take some of the concern away. His mind works well most of the time and I have high hopes that he will respond to that logic.

My time is worth nothing if I don’t feel like I’m doing something important with it. This is what’s important to me right now, so I’m happy to commit my time.

Last night I heard stories that I’ve never heard before. All the recollections are unfiltered now. I learned of suicides, hangings, hubris, and disease. Family connections that were always shadowy became clear. This information is important and relevant to nobody. My extended family had a lot of branches that petered out. Only a thin line of succession still remains.

I found a post card that my Great Uncle Mac sent to Dad days before Mac disappeared at sea off his Navy ship in the Pacific. Some say that Mac went to the side to lower a bucket into the water and was swept overboard. Others speculate that his drowning was suicide. My father may be projecting some of his own feelings on the past.

I asked him if he needed anything this morning.

“A revolver,” he said. That’s my father’s sense of humor.

So this summer is going pretty well.

A change is as good as a rest, they say.

I hope you’re well and staying safe & healthy.