Dad Revisited

When we put an addition on the house, my wife had the brilliance and forethought to create a Family Room that could easily be repurposed into an apartment. As we got older, she reasoned, so would our parents. That would require us to have a place i our home for them to live, either temporarily or permanently.

That would prove to be particularly prescient. Recently, my mother-in-law took ill. She is currently in a facility receiving care she truly needs. She is, for the most part, healthy and will probably continue to be healthy for some time to come. She will require special care for a while, and even when she is ready to return home, she will likely be unable to care for herself without some assistance.

My father-in-law is as healthy as he has been for some time. At least, as far as his body goes. His heart is ailing. He has lived with the same woman for over 60 years, and now she’s out of the house. He could live alone, but the house is so… empty. He has never really cooked for himself. He is not so big on laundry. He comes from a generation where gender roles are very strictly defined. Sure, he can fix things that are broken, but that’s not enough.

Having a mate changes the way you live your life. You get used to it, after a while. When you live alone, who will steal the section of the paper you were reading? Who leaves the seat up/down on the toilet? Who will leave the dishes in the sink? The empty ice trays on the counter? The nearly empty gas tank? The box with 2 crackers left? Sure, sometimes we get aggravated by these little foibles and peculiarities, but after creating a rhythm or routine that incorporates them, their sudden removal leaves you tripping over yourself. At a time of stress, you feel those losses quite dearly.

When we were young and still searching for that ’someone’ we filled those empty moments. We filled the emptiness with the search itself. Once you’ve found that someone, the search is over, and you can’t pick it up again. When we were young, we filled the emptiness with drink. Now we’re too old for that. When we were young, we filled the emptiness with friends. At a certain age, you have few (if any) friends left.

You have family.

And so, we find ourselves, for a time at least, as an extended family. New members. New challenges. New arrangements. New schedules. Life moves quickly. Gotta keep up.

You want your children to learn as much as they can. You want to give them as many opportunities as possible. So you send them away on school overnight trips. With this in mind, my son prepared for two wonderful travel opportunities in the span of two weeks.

Of course, the day before he leaves, something tragic happens in his family, and he ends up visiting with a grandparent, perhaps for the last time. This trauma affects him deeply, but he stands tall and tries to ignore the possibilities while trying to enjoy himself on the trip. The trip goes off as scheduled, and when he returns (after 3 days out of cellular range) he gets to see his grandparent, who has managed to not only survive, but to thrive.

Then he packs and plans for an international trip. We equipped him with an international calling card. We gave him an international cellular phone. He visited again with his ailing grandparent, who will likely still be here upon his return, but will almost certainly not be home any time soon. Again, he was upbeat, even though he knows that when he returns, we’ll have one more in the house. He agrees it would be wrong to leave one in a house alone while the other is in a rehab facility. And so, when he returns, we will no longer be nuclear, but extended.

Off he goes, landing uneventfully in Paris. Checking in at the hostel, he begins his international adventure with enthusiasm and joy. After a few days, he leaves the hostel to head home. Not home to us, but a temporary home with the student he hosted in November. For us as parents, a much more comforting time. What could be better than having him stay with a family? We had hosted their child, we imagined a quid pro quo would allow him to be protected and comfortable.

Who could predict that we’d have trouble figuring out how to text message from abroad? Who would have predicted we’d have to try a variety of ways to call from his cellular to mine? Who would expect a tragedy in their household? Who could predict that the family would be devastated in a way that would make it impossible for them to continue to host him? Who would know that he would be thrust into a circumstance which would be nearly impossible to manage in English, with a family you know well? How can he possibly be expected to manage it in French, with a family he barely knows, on their worst day ever?

I consider myself to be an outstanding planner, but some things you just can’t be expected to predict. Be safe and well, Skippy. Hugs are waiting for you at home.