My daddy (yes! I will forever call him daddy) passed away in 2005 from renal failure brought on by diabetes. For five or so years before that I was the primary caregiver to him and mom at the same time. For awhile there I tried to manage taking care of them in their home but when that blew up they had to be sent to two different nursing homes because they had different health concerns. Mom had Alzheimer’s and Dad was a diabetic.
The parental holidays of Mother’s and Father’s day were always bittersweet for me because they were both sick, in care facilities and apart from each other. My only solace was that at least mom enjoyed her chocolate I always brought her for her day – even if she hadn’t a clue as to who was feeding it to her – and Dad, while getting progressively sicker, knew who we all were and could enjoy time with us in almost the same ways as before he became ill. He could read the goofy cards we got him (we were never a family of mushy cards; it had to be fun and silly or it just wasn’t us!) and we would tie a balloon to his wheelchair for awhile until his grumbling made us take it off. But he would always proudly wear the wonderfully outrageous tee shirts I would get him as a present. It got to a point that the staff would come by to see what I brought him this time. Whenever he would wear one of those shirts the staff would smile and say to him “I see your daughter got you another shirt, Thomas.” That would make him smile; anytime something made him smile that would make me happy.
But no matter how the day would go there was still this bit of sadness because we had to drive a long way to get to his Veteran’s home and I would ultimately have to slip away from the burger bonanza (we knew we were doing wrong by his health but we always brought him burgers, fries and a malt on special days) to go talk to the nursing staff to handle business or to check on his kidney function levels. Nothing like going over the numbers on a chart that are telling me that my father’s kidneys are failing and only dialysis would help him. See, the problem with that was at the VA home they could not do dialysis and he would have to be taken so many days a week to a hospital that was an hour away for the treatment and the cost of going back and forth was sizable and not covered by insurance. Daddy put the brakes on that option by saying – and I quote – “Hell no! I am not going to go through that!”
Stubborn hard headed man but it was his choice and other than going through legal hoops I could do nothing but respect his wishes. We got into a few arguments about his treatment plans but in the end it was his body his choice and his mind was still pretty sharp so I had to let him chose to live and end his life they way he wanted to. Lord! That man was stubborn and to this day I feel that if he hadn’t been so he might have been spared some of the harshness and collateral damage (leg amputations) of the disease. Again, his choice. That is something that all of us as caregivers have to go through; doing this dance of what we think is best for the ones we are caring for vs what they want. I wish you the best if you are in the midst of this tango and really hope you never have to go through the process of legal guardianship for your loved one in order to take care of them – that can get ugly all around.
The first holidays after a death are always the hardest and to be honest they never get really easy – just not as painful. For Father’s Day I now send a wreath to his grave site and when I could I would go visit and sit on his grave and tell him all about how stupid his grandchildren were 🙂 Yes, I would sit on his grave facing his headstone and have wonderful conversations with him. We all do what works for us. When he was alive I envied others who had father’s that they would go visit at their own homes or they would post pictures on social media of the family all surrounding dear old Dad at a family gathering or restaurant. Eventually I came to terms with those things and I stopped caring about what others could do or did and was just thankful that no matter his condition I could still touch his hand, stroke his beautiful curly hair, and offer him a beer even when it became difficult for him to drink one.
Now I just feel a bit sad, shed a few tears, and miss my daddy terribly but I am happy he is with mom and is whole again. For those of you who still have your father with you I hope you have a wonderful Father’s Day with him. If you are his caregiver I hope the day is extra specially good because the rest of the days are probably rough.
Happy Father’s Day Daddy. Love and miss you.