From the Mommy Files…

Mommy’s Alright, But Daddy, Not So Much…

Posted on: February 2, 2015

Hi. It’s been a while!

Let’s get you caught up! So much has happened.

When last we met, we sent my mom back to rehab kicking and screaming.

Her second trip to the hospital in less than 2 months revealed a very severe congestive heart failure.

We almost lost her — again.

With her follow up care too intensive for my dad, we didn’t have a choice.

After a few weeks, the doctors called a meeting.

It was time.

Time to move Mom to a nursing home.

We knew we’d end up down this road.

So at the end of April, Mom moved to her new home.

We were warned that it would be a bumpy ride.

They weren’t kidding.

Enter in two months of transition, with Mom bringing everyone to tears from her abuse.

She was so incredibly mean and hurtful.

She’d say the strangest things, make threats.

The doctor recommended a cognitive evaluation.

We knew she probably had some Parkinson’s-related dementia coming on.

Shortly thereafter, she was officially diagnosed with dementia.

The neuropsychologist said there was definite cognitive impairment.

They prescribed Mom a little something to “take the edge off.”

Soon, she began to calm down and settle in.

Hold on to your hats.

It wasn’t smooth sailing from there.

My siblings and I decided we shouldn’t leave Dad alone.

So we began preparing Dad to move in with us.

He busied himself going through things, learning things my mom had hidden from him over the years.

Dad was busy, so he was happy.

Though in the end, we discovered more than we bargained for.

With Mom settled in the nursing home, it was like Dad was drinking the truth serum.

He began to reveal things we had never known.

He’d call me at random times to tell me he found something that I needed to come and see.

I couldn’t believe some of the stories he would tell.

With Mom “away,” he was able to talk freely, really for the first time ever.

Mom would speak for him, took care of everything.

In her mind, his only function was to work and give her money so she could spend it on things she didn’t need and had no use for.

Dad seemed ok, and then when we’d pack things to take to Goodwill or the trash, he began to ramble on about how he worked all his life, and now we were dumping his life at the Goodwill drop off.

He seemed to get more withdrawn with each drop off.

Then he’d start to freak out if we mentioned Goodwill.

Dad would get very upset when no one wanted something they had.

Mom never took care of things, and really, we’d already divided everything up when they moved from their home years ago and into their apartment.

Besides, we all were set up in our homes and didn’t need what they had.

After a while, we’d just take it to appease him, and then later, dispose of it accordingly.

At the end of June, Dad moved in with us.

On his first night at our house, the girls took their new roommate, aka Papou, for ice cream.

On his first night at our house, the girls took their new roommate, aka Papou, for ice cream.

We were all very excited.

Dad had always been an easygoing, go-with-the-flow kind of guy. We thought it was going to be a relatively easy transition.

Guess again.

We had big plans.

But what do they say about making big plans?

Things didn’t go as we’d planned — or hoped.

This is when we realized we were losing him.

We’d been so focused on Mom, and he’d always been so strong.

No one wanted to admit it, but being with him every day, we saw it.

This man was not my dad.

Certainly not the dad I knew.

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