It’s well known that I become nearly catatonic when visiting my family. Ok, that’s an exaggeration, but I do tend to become much less active. It is an effort to do anything or visit anyone. I don’t know why this happens, but it is probably a temporary depression. Suddenly all the issues from my past, present and future gang up and hold me down.

This trip is not much different in that regards. I spend much of the day in the attic bedroom my father refinished for me when I was a teenager. It is cosy and doesn’t stink (especially after I rolled up the carpet that I suspet my mom’s cat has been using as a toilet for several years).

I’ve been putting in an average of 4 hours work a day in between cooking and taking dad on car rides. I’ve not taken him to a restaurant – he doesn’t always behave himself in public. He wanted to go to a local tavern for “burgers” yesterday for lunch, but when I told him he could not have a beer he yelled, “Well, let’s just not go then.” Fine with me.

I’ve burst into tears twice – not in front of dad, but because of him. Not because he said anything, but because I feel so bad and helpless about his condition. I’d been reluctant to go into his bedroom, afraid of the filth I might see, knowing the stench was unbearable when he opened the door. I was surprised to see the room was tidy, but the smell of his unwashed body was gag-producing. I couldn’t help the tears that came after being in his room.

The second time was last night. He’d gone to bed around 4 or so, so I spent the afternoon and evening getting more work done. Then around 8 I watched some “on demand” videos from Netflix. I went downstairs to get some water and smelled after shave. I thought perhaps the neighbor had put on too much cologne and it was wafting into my bedroom window. I heard noises coming from the second bathroom in the basement, and realized Dad was down by the washing machine. I didn’t want him to see me, thinking he might have had an accident and was trying to wash his sheets. I hid and waited for him to go upstairs. After he had gone I went into the laundry room and saw evidence that he’d taken a shower. There were several towels on the washing machine and the carpet was covered in several footprints of white powder (he always liked to sprinkle himself with shower-to-shower powder after a shower). So once again I burst into tears. He took a shower without being reminded. It was clear he was trying to please me and all I could do was hide from him and feel sorry for myself.

It is so hard to think that he actually is not being this way on purpose. It would feel better if I thought he could quit and start being normal again.

I always feel a little anxious before seeing Dad after a long time away from him – at least in the past 10 years or so. He’s gotten so old looking for one thing. And he has a temper. And he doesn’t remember things very well. He cannot do much of what he did as an adult including drive, work or cook. He refuses to shower and I have no idea the last time he washed his hands. The house reeks of unwashed body odor. Sometimes I look at other 79 year old (and older) men and feel envious that the children of those men still have their fathers.

Mom left at 4 this morning to go on her cruise. I was awake and heard them leave. I had trouble sleeping – possibly from worry about what I’d gotten myself into.

Dad was in high spirits today. I asked him about Mom – if he was going to enjoy the time away from her and he said, “yes” and kind of laughed.

I woke up to the sound of garbage trucks in the neighborhood and remembered that the garbage needed to be taken to the curb. Then I heard the garbage bins being rolled, one at a time, to the curb. Dad was doing one of his jobs. We had coffee and a little chat. We talked about when dinner should be eaten – I’d planned on making it our noon meal, and asked him when he wanted dinner. He remarked that since I was the “chef” I could make it when I wanted. I decided to have it for our evening meal and planned on serving it by 5, which is after his usual bedtime.

I got some work done today – about 6 hours worth. I also made a strawberry-rhubarb pie for dessert. Dad watched the garbage bins with the vigilance of a mother watching her toddler play. There was a cool breeze in the air, and dad sat in the back yard wearing a jacket and gloves. (although the gloves may have been worn to keep his hands clean)

I also changed the room around a little. Mom had the bed against the windows and I don’t like sleeping with my head so close to windows. It is not quite perfect, but it works for me now.

Dinner was not what he expected. I overcooked the beef so it was dry and tough. He had trouble swallowing his first piece and nearly choked on it. He allowed me to cut up the rest of his meat and said, “look at my little girl taking care of her daddy”. Kind of sad, but kind of sweet. He did enjoy the pie though and he was awake until after 7:00 pm, which is unusual.

I retired early and am watching television while writing this.

I’m in Elgin. Without my kids or husband. I’m staying in my teenage bedroom where I’m trying to work while I care for my dad.

Mom hasn’t actually left yet — she leaves in the pre-dawn hours for a well-deserved trip to Alaska with some of her good friends– so I don’t really know how this is going to play out.

My father has a form of dementia. In some ways he is a child again. He steals things he covets, cigarettes and soda pop, from people he knows (and in some cases, doesn’t know) . He’s grown a mustache – totally white except for some brown in the middle – which could be leftover food or some brown hairs or a skin condition.

When my mother told me about this trip, one of my first thoughts was, “What about Dad?”. My husband suggested I offer to take care of him while she went to Alaska. Because I’d already thought of it, I agreed.

So here I am. Today I purchased the makings of several of his favorite meals and will cook them for him. He goes to bed early, so dinner for us will be around noon. Not a bad idea since the house is not air conditioned at the moment. Cooking a roast beef at 10 am might be better than heating up the house in the afternoon on hot days.

We will see how it goes.