Enduring Power of Attorney. We have this now, registered, for my mother. The strangeness of this state of affairs sinks in slowly, as I speak to the banks who look after her money, establish myself and my brother as its custodians. It seems matter-of-fact to walk into the local branch of her bank, and begin this process, just a bit of business, and then I catch sight of myself doing it, remember what it means. Or can't quite remember what it means...
She is doing alright at times, less so at others. Getting to know her fellow residents, but also telling my sister she's been there long enough now. Getting new hearing aids, but unable to manipulate them, needs larger ones, so a further delay. Getting a phone in her room. No idea how that will go, but I shall be able to phone her again. This is good, though I have, I will not lie to you, enjoyed the quiet time of her telephonelessness.
And I am thinking about my Dad, how much I loved him when I was a little girl, and he brought me picture books home from work and read me Edward Lear nonsense poems, how further and further apart we grew as I grew up, as my parents' marriage languished, died, was left behind. How we left him behind. How he let us. How he left the world. His choice. The last 25 years of my life marked by that choice. I can't explain to you how, or not briefly. But I think I have tried to know him in a way by becoming him, a tendency I have, a strength and a weakness in a therapist. To feel my way into people's skins, into their heads. Then you have to feel your way out again, regain perspective. I think maybe that is what is happening for me with my Dad. I am not you Dad. I am alive. I can live and grow and thrive. My life is my own. I am not doomed.
4 comments:
How very powerful - your feelings about your relationship with your Father. I can identify with this. I never knew my Father, although he was around until twenty years ago. He made it impossible, but now I regret not forcing the boundaries of possibility.
No one told us that one day we really will have to look after our mothers or fathers the way they did look after us when we were small and helpless and clueless in so many ways. And even if we were told, we never thought it would happen to us, didn't we. It's a fine balance also between the siblings but you did the right thing. We fought and argued much too long and are still sorting through the mess we made, looking for who's to blame.
I hope you can discover more of this strength in you in the times to come.
I'm glad you see something positive out of your feelings about your father. As for your mother - it's very sad. I feel for you.
"I can't explain to you how, or not briefly. But I think I have tried to know him in a way by becoming him, a tendency I have, a strength and a weakness in a therapist. To feel my way into people's skins, into their heads. Then you have to feel your way out again, regain perspective. I think maybe that is what is happening for me with my Dad. I am not you Dad. I am alive. I can live and grow and thrive. My life is my own. I am not doomed."
Thank you for writing this down. A good reminder.
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