Choices and Decisions

I have a whole list of subjects I want to delve into, but for now, I am feeling like I want to write out some of the “bones” of my story, for my own recollection later, if nothing else, and for anybody who might start following my story and be interested.

My mom died about 5 ½  years ago, and my dad hasn’t been the same since.  He still cries several times a day when he thinks about her, and his memory, vision and self care have all gone steadily downhill, as I wrote about in the previous post.  Last year, during a visit to help him prepare for cataract surgery, I decided it was time to bring up the question of what he wants to do when the time comes he can’t live on his own anymore.  Unfortunately, he only had one situation that was acceptable to him, and it is the one that doesn’t really work for anybody else.  The only thing my dad wanted was to live in the house he shared with my mother until he dies, but he didn’t want a stranger coming in to care for him either.  There are several people he would agree to live with, but nobody wanted to disrupt their entire life to move in with my dad, and nobody was close enough to offer daily care when it got to that point.  He refused to even consider a second choice, although I offered him several. 

Fast forward to my recent visit, and it was clear some decisions were going to have to be made, whether my dad was willing to be the one making them or not. The loss of his license was the final blow for me in knowing he shouldn’t live alone as he seems confused about how to use the transportation options available to him, and then a large portion of his cash disappeared after a couple shopping trips.  As much as I didn’t want to admit it, the time had come for a change. He was still really clear on his moment to moment decisions, when I could get him to focus on a topic, and he was still just as adamant about not leaving his house, so what to do?

My husband and I had many, many long conversations.  We turned over all sorts of options, and the plan has shifted and changed even in the last couple weeks. As of this moment, the plan is for our whole family to drive to California at the end of February with a trailer full of essentials.  Then my husband will fly back to Oregon and start looking for a small apartment close to his new job.  He will finish up with our current house, taking what will fit to his new place and putting the rest in storage.  This move will be the most complicated one I have ever undertaken as I am packing things right now to go to 3 different places!   Then I get to start doing the same at my dad’s house, going through hutches and buffets and such to see what I want to keep or ask my siblings about or sell.  My mom was an antique dealer and has volumes of glassware, china and other collectibles, so it is going to be a monumental job.  My husband is hoping to come to CA as often as possible and even work there remotely part time if it is feasible. 

My ultimate goal is to talk my dad into coming back to Oregon with us.  It isn’t going to be easy, but I think it is a better choice than Assisted Living.  I just hate that I am probably going to end up being the one to make the choice for him.  I have gotten the advice from his doctor and some friends not to give him a choice, but that is so against my nature.  One of my main focuses as a parent is to give my kids as much choice in their lives as possible, and isn’t this supposed to be like having another child?  I guess it is different with Alzheimer’s or if somebody just won’t make a choice, but it is still really distasteful. 

I know this is only the beginning of all the decisions I am going to need to make, and I have always been terrible at decisions.  I tell people all the time, “I am horrible at decision making, but give me a plan, and I will execute the hell out it.”  I am more of a manifestor, so I am way out of my comfort zone.  Which things do I keep?  Will I regret it if I don’t keep certain things?  How do I handle finances around cohabitating?  Is my dad at the point I should set up my conservatorship?  Do I try to give my dad a choice about where he wants to live?  Ack, that is a decision about a decision!  My head may explode.   So this experience should be hard but also an opportunity for personal growth.  Trying to focus on the positive!

My hesitancy about my dad coming to Portland is that he is used to the Southern California climate, and he spends a fair amount of time outside, but I have to think being with family trumps anything else, and his doctor agreed with that.  Also, at one point when we were talking about when I was going to be leaving, he said, “Take me with you!”  He said in a joking tone, but he said it.  In my head I thought, “OK, once is enough!  He did actually consider it!”  He has NEVER even remotely considered the idea of Assisted Living.  He didn’t even like going to the Senior Center because he said people were cliquey, so I think he would have a really hard time adjusting to a bunch of strangers. 

Well, that is most of the story so far, for today.  I know things could change at any moment if something happens to my dad.  My adult daughter is staying with him this week, and my sister-in -law plans to drive out to him twice a week to check for store run needs and such, but I worry about the times he will be alone.  Taking things a day at a time. 

Just about every piece of advice I have read or gotten says not to uproot your family to take care of a parent, but I think we will be OK.  Our kids are not in school, and they have many friends they connect with virtually.  My husband and I both have family in the area and my husband’s boss seems really flexible.  I am a stay at home mom, so I have the time to devote to this.  All I know is that it would break my heart to see what my dad would go through if I tried to make him move in any rushed way.  So this is my compromise.  Make gradual changes.  Plant seeds.  Keep my goal in my vision.  And try to not look like the picture below too often. 

Acting From Love Instead of Fear or The Moment this Blog was Born

I recently got hot home from an extended visit to my dad’s house.  About a year ago, I thought it was already time for him to start thinking about not living alone.  His vision was poor and his memory was going, but overall he was doing OK.  Well, things can change a lot in a year when you are living alone in your 80s I guess - I found a whole different situation this visit.  His house was filthy, his clothes were stained, he had lost his memory of many significant people in our family, and most concerning, he was not taking his meds correctly based on the huge overage of pills left in his bottles.  He was also about to lose his license and his car, which I knew was going to be a huge blow to his independence.

So what was supposed to be a week long visit turned into almost a month.  I decided to stay past the day he was going to lose his license because I knew he was going to need the support. It was not the fun type of visit we usually have when we go to California.  I cooked, I cleaned, I made house repairs and phone calls to doctors and lawyers and financial institutions, and I worked on coming to grips with the reality that my dad can’t live alone anymore and what that is going to mean for him, for me and for my family.  I am still processing it.  That is the whole point of this blog, but today, I want to write about the moment this blog was birthed in my head.

 My parents were pretty average folks and mainstream parents.  I didn’t get beaten, I was well supported in my interests, but I did get grounded, and they were experts at manipulation.  Even when I became an adult, their favorite threat was possibly taking me out of their will if I was doing something that displeased them enough.  I have tried to follow a very different path with my young children, focusing on connection and collaboration, without any punishments or rewards.  I am not always perfect, partially because I carry the echoes of my childhood with me, but my goal is to care for the small humans in my life in ways that promote love over fear, abundance over scarcity and authenticity over "fitting in". 

Punishments and manipulations don’t produce children who act out of love.  They create children who act out of fear.  Whether they are afraid of the actual consequence or the withdrawal of love and approval, it is still all fear.  Sometimes the smallest thing will remind me of where I used to be and just how far I have come.

The house my dad lives in now was purchased back around 1995, so that is a long to feel settled into a place.  I have stayed  there off and on while visiting and even lived there for a brief time after coming back to CA after an out of state move. My mom was a nagger, no other way to put it.  If the house was messy in the morning, I would hear about it, several times.  If I unplugged a lamp to plug my laptop in and forgot to put it back, the world might come to an end. 

One night during my recent visit, as I was readying the house for my daughter and I to go to bed, I was tidying up, leaving certain lights on, making sure the right things were plugged into the right outlets so the right switches turn things on, etc., and it hit me….  I am doing this out of love.  Love for the man who fathered me and has supported me all my life.  Love for the man who has poor vision and is grasping on to his familiar surroundings as one of the only things he has left.  But 10 years ago, maybe even 5, I went through this same routine out of fear.  I mean I wasn’t really *afraid*, but it was the child in me, fearing the disapproval of my parents, going through those motions.   

My mom left this plane in 2008, and my dad has become much more lax about such things, but I know he prefers as little change in his life as possible.  Maybe I needed this period to not have the worry in my head?  I am not sure why I noticed the shift this visit   Maybe it was the enormity of what I was taking on.  Maybe it was the huge personal growth I experienced recently while working on my relationship with my husband and my gratitude practice.  In truth, all of these things played their part.  I am all about seeing the “ands” in life – one of my favorite topics - so you will see it pop up here soon probably. 

All I know is that in that moment, I was acting from a place of love.  I believe that most of the things we experience as negative are somehow tied to fear.  Sometimes it takes a bit of pondering to figure it out, but it is always there - under anger, under shame, under jealousy – fear we are screwing up as parents and that is why our kid is acting a certain way, fear of being hurt, fear we are not worthy, fear of loneliness, I could go on and on. 

This time in my life is going to challenge me to choose love.  I have already gotten snappy with my daughter when she is asking me for something over and over when I am in the middle of trying to help my dad with something.  In that moment, I was annoyed.  What was my fear around it?  I had to sit with this one for a few minutes.  Fear that she has poor manners and will never learn any.  Fear that she is selfish and it is my fault, fear that I am never going to have any time for myself, fear that I can’t handle all the demands that are going to be placed on me.  Wow, that’s a lot of fear. 

I want to remember what a gift this time will actually be as all these things that come up can be used as tools for self-reflection.  Really, we have that opportunity every moment of every day, but some moments it is harder to choose love.  I just have to remember to keep breathing and start thinking before speaking.  Not the default of this extroverted, talkative person.  Wish me luck! 

What's In a Name?

I am entering a new phase in my life, often called the sandwich generation.  For anybody who has not heard the term, it refers to people who are caring for both children and elders, and the resulting sense of squishitude that goes along with that life choice.  I have also recently found a passion for writing, which happened as a result of a gratitude practice I undertook in November.  I never really “got” journaling in the past.  I have always been a “verbal processor” and tend to figure things out as I am talking to somebody, but it wasn’t until recently I had that same experience with writing.    So now, as I face what will most likely be the most stressful time in my life to date, I am being drawn to process it with the written word.

Blog names are important to me, and this one took a lot of thinking.  Enough that I decided it deserved its own post!  I wanted something that related to sandwiches but could still work when I am past this place in my life.  It was a bit of a challenge since I am an avid follower of the paleo diet and don’t even eat sandwiches lol.  (Yes, there are paleo breads you can make, but I am a bit “why bother” about them when there are so many other good things to eat!)  I considered going with a play on wraps instead but realized that would be esoteric at best, so I kept plugging away in my brain until I hit on something I am sortof obsessed with right now… mayo!

Mayo is sortof a staple for me.  From chicken salad to deviled eggs to chipotle dip, there is a good chance I am going to use mayo at least once a day.  I am completely in love with Trader Joe’s mayo, but I am also trying to get canola oil out of my diet, which leads to a whole nother aspect of the obsession:  working on the perfect homemade recipe.  But that is another post for another time. 

Just loving mayo is not the whole meaning of the name for me however. There is the sandwich connection of course, but what this name also conveys for me is a sense of abundance, which is how I strive to see the world.  We are also an unschooling family. (If you are interested, you can read about it here: http://www.naturalchild.org/guest/pam_sorooshian.html) Unschooling can look very different for different families, but the concept of living in abundance versus fear and scarcity is a popular one among unschoolers.  So when I picture myself being sandwiched, the idea of asking for MORE is really powerful.  Give me more in my life, give me more of something I love.  When there is a problem, how can it be solved by adding something instead of taking something away?  Usually that means adding love.  That is pretty much my life philosophy in a nutshell.  Or should that be in a jar?  J

Maybe I could have called my blog Pass the Love…  Hmm, I really like that too!  But I decided to stick with Pass the Mayo because I am pretty much a food and nutrition geek as well.  My daughter has all sorts of food allergies and chronic gut issues we haven’t figured out, so researching and making special foods, and using food as medicine, is a big part of my life.

So to wrap it up (haha, I got my wrap in there after all!)  The things I will write about most frequently will be dealing with becoming a caregiver for my dad, gratitude, unschooling and food.  There you have it!  I’m gonna have my sandwich and eat it too!