As I think I mentioned, my mom passed
away. My dad is still alive. He lives in a condo, about a mile
away. He takes care of himself...sort of. I don't know what to do
with him. He calls my husband at work....sometimes 3-4 times a
day. He calls to tell him stuff like, "so, how come you go to
so many meetings...what do you do in those meetings."
On the weekends, he drops over all the
time. He ogles my nextdoor neighbor, who I don't particularly
like. Tony, my husband, has told him, sometimes to shut up, but he doesn't
listen and goes on saying disgusting things. He will call, on the weekend,
if he's not over and be aggravated if we don't tell him every move we make...out
to the store (what store?)...when back from the store, etc.
The other day he was over. He jiggled the
fat on my upper arm and then complained why I don't invite him over to dinner
When he calls and asks where we went, I always have this urge
to say we were at this fantastic party. There were people there our age
and your age. We thought of inviting you, but purposefully decided not to
He has cataracts...I think one eye is much worse
than the other. He has told me that in his last visit to the eye doctor he
was told that in his bad eye, his vision had declined to the point where he
would not pass a motor vehicle test. Needless to say, we have been
encouraging him to get the surgery. He always comes up with excuses...I
think he is just basically scared.
I have thought what to do about this. I
even called the police, without giving my name and asked their advice. The
fellow I talked to didn't seem like he ever had someone call and ask him what to
do in this sort of situation. He said that the police would refer him to
Motor Vehicles. I haven't done anything. I'm sort of scared. I
think he would know it was me and would be so mad.
I do admire you Nanc, and so many caretakers
I've met and wrote to on this list for all you do. Also, I know that the
most likely person to need caretaking in my life, i.e., my father, I could never
take care of. Tony and I don't know what exactly would happen if he
becomes unable to take care of himself...although I guess he would be in a
nursing home, pinching the nurses and in general, making a reputation for
himself as the biggest pain in the butt in the facility.
I don't know why I'm telling you all this
stuff...Maybe I just had to get it off my chest. I know my antidepressant
helps a lot. Xanax is addictive, I think...maybe Paxil or Zoloft.
But don't listen to me...talk to a good psychiatrist.
Depression does run in my family...well on one
side. Have you guessed which side...? It's not my
mother's. It helps me to be more calm and not to worry so
much...That's all. No zombie stuff. Also, I think it helps me see
things more practically. Sometimes it drives my husband crazy when we're
having an argument, because I'm always right. YEAH, ME!!!!!!!!!!!!(arm
I hope that'll help Don. I think you
said that your son is coming to live with you...maybe I heard wrong...I don't
know. But the other thing it sounds like you may need is somebody that can
get between you and Don on occasion.
Please take care of yourself because we love you
P.S.: With my antidepressant, (Paxil),
which helps me not worry so much about cancer, I also am freed up to experience
much more deeply, prayer, meditation, and positive visualization about things
like staying well!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
P.P.S.: I'm not sure, but I think I sent
you a genuine Allen Sherman tape...he was the guy that wrote and sang that song
about Camp Grenada...you know, "Hello Mudda...Hello Fadda...etc.,
etc. I hope you listen tomorrow...at least maybe it'll make you