Sandwich gal feels triumphant – and released. At least for now.
The original plan was that my dad would stay at my house in San Miguel and I’d hire a nurse or really just an attendant to keep him company – for three to four hours a day. This would allow him utmost autonomy while still being watched over, fed and walked, like my houseplants and pets, which both require the same maintenance. Dad had already chosen Mexico over the US for his placement when I give him the option. He had to choose one as I was leaving to France and he could not be alone. So it worked perfectly in my favor. He HAD to go somewhere for the time I was away. However, in my mind, I didn’t want to return and have him live with me again. I was pretty done with that whole thing.
It wasn’t so much that he was difficult, per se, but his presence bothered me in such a way that I could hardly get a thing done. For example, I’d be writing in my sitting room and he’d come and join me – to be closer to me, he’d say, as he left a perfectly comfortable couch in the other room. Then he’d just stare at me.
“What’s up, dad? Why are you staring at me. Do you need something?”
“No, I’m just looking at my beloved daughter.”
If you think this sounds sweet and loving and all that, well, you’re wrong. This is coming from a man who for all intents and purposes ignored me my entire life and/or took advantage of me and any resource I had, and was just plain manipulative. So this also felt manipulative. And weird. And it also made sense now that I was the last one standing who was looking out for his interests in any way. All other bridges had been burned to the ground. So in the example above, I’d retreat to my bedroom, with far less comfortable seating, and try to finish my work there. I’d close all doors and curtains to try to ensure privacy. After some calls, I could see my father’s feet under my curtain, standing close to my glass door, clearly eavesdropping on my conversations. Ewwww. So yes, the adventure of finding closure and a loving solution with my dad was not going as well as planned. It wasn’t terrible; it just wasn’t working.
As fate or luck would have it, he started spiraling soon after our arrival to Mexico. I’d go out for the night and receive a minimum of 3-4 texts.
“I feel very lonely and depressed. I’m not even sure where I am beloved daughter.”
Sometimes the notes were even more dramatic: “There are some nights when the feelings of being lost and alone invade my soul.”
The proverbial straw that broke us, was when the front gate of our apartment building stopped working. At 10pm one night, in a raging rainstorm, my father was hoisting me up so I could reach through the bars of the door to override the electric lock and let myself into the building. After many tries, we finally succeeded. However, If dad had been alone, he would not have known what to do.
It became very clear to me that if I let him live solo in my apartment, the best case is that I’d be getting dozens of stressed and confused texts each day, and he would likely be quite fearful and alone. The worst case would be a lockout, or getting lost… or… Just the thought made it impossible for me to relax.
I quickly pivoted to plan B. Dad would have to go into an assisted living home to make sure he would be safe, fed and cared for. Just the thought of this brought me relief. The administrator who suggested the nurse for hire was right away amenable to having my dad move into her new assisted living home full time. He would be the first at this new location as they’d just moved, but would be joined by some other elders in the coming months. So he wouldn’t be lonely, she assured me. Plus, he’d have four nurses on rotation making sure he had round-the-clock care. Best of all, it was within his budget and the setting was quiet and beautiful: A single story structure with big glass windows that allowed lots of light. There was green grass surrounding the building and flat walkways, and outside his window was a beautiful olive tree. I loved it. It didn’t mean I wouldn’t get numerous texts every day, but it did mean that even when he was lonely, I knew he was well cared for and would be safe. That was my first priority. In fact, for the first couple of weeks, I’d start the morning with a frantic request for money as he was hungry and hadn’t understood that I had prepaid everything for him. “Everything is already paid for, dad. Just go and enjoy your breakfast.”
As time went on, he relaxed. He’d tell me which nurse was on call and how kind she was. The head of the center would send me photos of my dad in town getting coffee or ice cream, playing guitar or dominos with staff – or even playing tennis! – and generally appearing happy and calm. I was also calm knowing he could easily pay this bill.
I still get texts asking when I’m coming to visit, or if he should come visit me, but in general he is settling in and sounds and looks happy. The whole process was immensely stressful but the final result makes me so happy, for him and for me. In fact, he’s been such a great guest they’ve started featuring him on their webpage!
I’ll head down in October and see him in person, and hope by then the place is filled with more friendly expat faces. Let me know if you have a loved one who might be interested. It has brought me immense relief. Just hope there’s still room when my time comes… 😉
Dad is their featured star!
Adventuring A to Z 