Dear Nanc:
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 more often.
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 do it.
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 pump)
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 very much.
Your daughter,
Martha
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 smile.
