Freestyling at a Funeral

 Let's talk about something fun.  Something like, oh I don't know, a funeral.

One of Kevin's childhood best friends father passed away after a lengthy battle with dementia.  The father was a sort of father-figure for Kevin as his dad was gone while working most of his childhood.  Mr. Smith, as I will refer to him, lived next door to Kevin's house with FIVE sons, all born within a ten year span.  One son was Kevin's childhood best friend, while he was friends with the other brothers too, and one son was Kevin's brother's best friend.  They were the quintessential neighborhood boys and friends.

Mr. Smith was a godly man in the way that it was meant to be understood.  He was like a Hallmark Movie Channel good man.  Kind, gentle, stern when it was necessary, and giving. Always willing to give anyone a hand.  Everything he had he built and earned and he shared his time and talents.

One of the last interactions he had with Kevin before the dementia set in was at his son's house.  He said hello to Kevin as he usually did.  He said "Any day that I wake up on this side of the dirt is a good day" like he usually did.  Then he hesitated for just a moment.  "You know, I haven't hugged you since you were a small boy.  I'm going to hug you now." and hugged him tight. 

Yes, yes, I did fight back tears when that happened and while writing this now.

So, five sons.  Kind of like the pastor's kids are always the wild ones, these boys were the rebellious boys who grew up in the 60's and 70's.  All mostly good humans with humanly flaws.  All distinctly different.  

With that in mind, and the godly thing, we expected a large funeral.  The regular church building wasn't available so the family had to improvise.  They borrowed another church's space; except their church is being built/remodeled and isn't ready yet.  They offered their temporary space.

In the courtyard of an abandoned mall.  Where Santa used to reside during the holidays.

To be fair, it's not totally abandoned. There is a movie theatre on one end and a Chuck E. Cheese on the opposite end.

We entered through the main entrance, where there used to be jewelry stores and sunglass kiosks, the Easter Bunny and aforementioned Santa.  So, this already feels weird.

People are mingling throughout the large space and we just kind of hovered off to the side and greeted the family and friends as we eventually  merged together.  There was a lot of "Wow, they got old" and "I haven't seen them since..." as happens at these kinds of functions.

The funeral didn't start on time so we were all kind of waiting.  I began to glance around.  The GNC Health store was now a makeshift coffee service area. One of the jewelry stores was children's bible study/childcare.  The rest are barricaded by glass doors, security doors, and in some cases plywood.  Very apocalyptic.  

You know those information kiosks that have the map of the mall and advertising for all the stores?  We happened to be standing next to one and I started to look at it.  It had been converted (church joke! ha!) over to a bulletin board/welcome sign for the church.  On the surface, it was fine.  Upon closer inspection, the candid photos they used were terrible.  Specifically terrible if taken out of context:

(apologies for the terrible glare.  Again: it was in a MALL)

#1 looks like a waterboarding  #2 looks like a reunification after a kidnapping

#3 just hurts my heart.  The little hands over his ears.

And the other photos weren't any better. It felt like they had a high school senior who didn't understand CONTEXT take and arrange the photos.

Finally, we were invited to go into the funeral and be seated.  Where Santa's workshop usually would be was a stage like for a low budget theatre or choir.  Complete with a terrible microphone, a music stand as a podium, and a keyboard.  It immediately reminded me of the SNL skit.

This is frighteningly accurate but age them about twenty years

There wasn't ushers so everyone just kind of haphazardly sat wherever.  There were large gaps everywhere.  Kleenex boxes sat on the tile floor of the mall at the end of each row.  They had been there a minute, if you get what I'm trying to convey.  There's no candles, few flowers, and no decorations of any kind.  Oh, black curtained backdrop and black carpeting on the stage.  SUPER unwelcoming.

We sat and the ceremony finally began.  The pastor kept saying Mr. Smith's name incorrectly, adding an extra letter.  This is one of my annoyances with funerals: when the pastor doesn't know the decedent.  Then he reads word-for-word the obituary that was in the newspaper and social media.  Finally, he segues into how  this is a good day and I'm screaming in my head.  He explains that Mr. Smith is no longer suffering  (which IS good) but now that he gets to celebrate, be reunited, etc.  Sigh.

Meanwhile, I'm thinking: I'm sure his family is happy he's not suffering but I'm also sure they'd rather have him here.  But this is something that is said at every funeral so moving on.

Then the pastor tells the story of how Mr. Smith met his wife.  He was driving down the street, saw his wife walking down the sidewalk and stopped to say hello.  She told him that she couldn't talk to him until he met her parents.  This sounds very sentimental for times past until you know that she was 14.  He was 18.  YIKES.  But they were married 66 years so all's well that ends well, I guess.

This is then where we learn that the pastor who keeps mispronouncing his name is his BEST FRIEND.  What the what.  But he told nice stories about church, camping and fishing, etc.  Old man stories, if you will.

Then one of his daughters-in-law stepped up to speak the eulogy, Kevin and his brother both sighed like "oh...no..." when she stepped up to speak so I was ready for anything.  The problem being was it was nearly exactly the obituary.  Finally, toward the end she began to speak a little more personally.  She gets points for trying.

Then the eldest son spoke.  He did fine, it was fine.  Another rehashing of the obituary, basically.  I was disappointed on Mr. Smith's behalf because there are plenty of stories to tell about his life.

Now it was the church part.  I didn't participate in prayer because it would be insincere and pretending felt more egregious than not.  About third prayer/psalm/bible verse in, the pastor clocked me doing that.  At first I was feeling a little rebellious then I realized that if he were sincere and engaged, he shouldn't have noticed me.  Also, not the first time I've felt a disproving glance.  lolsigh.

There was passages about relief from suffering and how it's all worth if for the great reward.  I took a deep breath and Kevin nudged me with an elbow.  The pastor said something about the price having been paid for redemption and another big deep breath from me.  Mr. Smith did not have a gentle death, he was suffering in ways I don't want to describe.  Then add that we have a father in a similar situation for context and I just couldn't with the YEA JESUS!  YEA RESURRECTION!

Then there was a song.  All is Well Within My Soul.  One of the few hymns that I actually like.  This was also one my mom's favorites and then that made me think about how she should have had any kind of funeral - even one as awful as this one - and didn't.

Now, the singer was in her eighties.  In a wheelchair.  Not visible to anyone but the front row and the pastor and his wife, who was the keyboard player.  The singer missed the opening notes.  The keyboard player mouthed the words to her and started over.  One, twice, third times a charm.  At first,  I thought maybe it was a child - like a grandchild - then it was clear it was an elderly lady.

So, she sung the first verse through then...stopped.  The keyboardist tried again, the AV person put the lyrics on the screen and ... nothing.  Finally she said "I'm sorry, I've forgotten the words.  You all know it so you can sing it..." but the Pastor decided to move on.

Back to the church stuff so I tuned out.  I looked around at the space.  The courtyard has glass spires, like mountain tops.  Someone had strung sheets or dropcloths across the courtyard "ceiling", about fifteen feet high. To block the direct sun, maybe?  They didn't match, they weren't tied nicely, just cobbled together.  There were screens with black fabric blocking off the two branches of the mall to the left and right.  The windows needed washed, everything needed dusted and swept.  It was just sad and dingy.  Again, I was disappointed as Mr. Smith deserved a nice church and a nice ceremony. 

(oh I forgot to mention: it was a 10:00 ceremony on a Saturday morning. Inconvenient and depressing)

Now it's the time of funerals that I hate more than the church part.  The testimonials from the crowd, where they pass the mike so people could tell stories.  Only one woman stood and spoke.  She told a long-winded, albeit nice, story then sat down.  Then there's that awkward pause while they wait for someone else to speak.  No one did.

The pastor indicates that it's time for the next song: Amazing Grace.  Okay, standard church fare, always good for a few tears.  Well, grandma was singing again.  Sigh.  She made it through the first verse then sung a WHOLE OTHER SONG.  Without thinking, I'm all "That's not the right song..." audibly and Kevin started to laugh, horrified.

She kind of finished, interrupted herself, then said she'd forgotten the words but she would finish the FIRST song now and started to sing.  HAND TO GOD I DON'T BELIEVE IN, this went on for almost five minutes and a mishmash of songs.  Finally she says into the mic "I just can't remember. You all just sing. Sing together. what ever song you like..."

Now I'm laughing and said to Kevin "So...we're freestyling now..."

Thankfully the pastor finally stepped in and said "Thank you, we're done now" and it took three tries to get her to stop.  It was like an Adam Sandler movie and I kept waiting for someone to slap the mic out her hand.

Then it was over.  A  thanks for coming, a quick prayer and it was done.  I watched as people kind of started to leave but again: no ushers so it's a mess.  I watched three young women go take selfies next to the casket and wanted to yell very loudly at them.  No one notices or shoos them away. 

No procession, no food, no guidance.  It had been announced that the body would be interred at the family plot in another town but no one was moving, leaving, anything.  The casket is still sitting there, unattended now, while people mill about.

We stood awkwardly for a few minutes, said goodbye then left.  We just couldn't anymore.  It was so disappointing, he deserved such a better ceremony.  But, it gave us a good story to tell.

Don't. Stop Believing. A Raising Parents Update

 Dear Readers, 

I have unfinished posts about gardening, spending $13 on trash food at the gas station, and being outed as an atheist/agnostic.  But...sigh...once again, the topic returns to Raising Parents.  Trust that I'm tired of this topic as well.

Over the last week or so, my father-in-law has been reporting to the boys that his blood pressure is 180/???, has been like that for Two Days and No One will come talk to him about it. (but they do, all day, every day)  Also, he's reported that his other foot has a sore. (he has a pressure sore on his foot)

On Saturday, after attending a funeral that I also want to write about because: OMG, we stopped for a visit. When we saw his regular nurse at the desk, we stopped and asked for an update.  She had been off a few days but indicated that there's no chart notes regarding his other foot.  AND that the other foot is finally healing...also something he's said wasn't happening.  AND his blood pressure has been marginally higher, but not as bad as he has been reporting.  She acknowledged that he's extra obsessive about his blood pressure.

Now I'm processing that we are to the point that we just can't believe anything that he says anymore.  Because of dementia, because of negative attention, because reasons, we can't believe him anymore.  I'm thinking about how to make that happen when...

She tells us that he's mad again about the money and the debit card and the wallet and his bank statements and how he wants his drivers license and we won't give him anything.  Saying this as she is pointedly looking at me saying "they".  Kevin is instantly mad.  I'm just disappointed. They said it would continue to happen and we know  that but at a core level: it feels like a slap.

Maria continues: Dad tried to make a report to Adult Protective Services - to the other nurse - and because they have a duty to report, she reported it to the supervisors.  It sounds like he was unable to make any kind of phone call and it's "just" in-house right now.  So, the facility is meeting on Monday, as mandated by law.  We don't know HOW DID HE KNOW TO ASK THAT 

She began to explain the process and I told her that I'm a Mandated Reporter as well and I know the drill.  Then later I explained  the process to Kevin. For those of you who don't know: In this instance, it goes from patient to whoever he made the accusation (because that's what it is)  Then that person has to report it to their supervisor who then reports it to the bosses, depending on chain of command and organizational structure.  Then they discuss any merit and make a determination whether or not it is reported to the State.  Now, this is where it gets tricky: if it's someone who is by the book and literal: they will call it in and make a report.  If it's someone who has done this a long time and isn't overly worried about the process, then they'll report back down the chain that it won't be pursued.  Because dementia, history of issues, etc.

Now, I know you're probably thinking, most rationally, "This is crazy, it won't go anywhere" but when you hear that you're potentially being reported to the state, rationality goes out the window.  Kind of like being reported for financial fraud.

If it goes to the state, it will most likely get "screened out". But there will still be a record of a report. Here's where this has me a tiny bit worried: I'm a Mandated Reporter.  This could affect my job if it were to escalate as my name is attached to report. (annual criminal background checks for my job)  I'm assuming that it won't but I need to acknowledge that to the universe so it gets out of my head.

I've been pretty good at rolling with this and frankly, stuffing those feelings down into the dark and twisty space.  This one, though, has me undone.

Not that we/I thought that this issue wouldn't crop up again, it's not that.  It's the Escalation - reporting fraud then wanting to report financial abuse - and the deceit.  He's fine to our faces during visits and phone calls. Then when we leave, the other personality is telling everyone we're the worst children who ever childrened and he runs his mouth to whomever is listening. 

Back to that particular visit:

Kevin told the nurse that he really didn't want to see his dad after hearing that report.  She said that he still should because of all the reasons and Kevin said "Don't tell me to not take it personally"             She didn't push back at all, I think she knows that is just a hollow statement. But Kevin walked down alone, peeked in his door, saw that he was sound asleep then came back and said "Problem solved, he's sleeping."  Maria was all "Oh no, we need to wake him up" and she headed down to his room in a hurry. We waited a beat and then followed her, to hear her say "You can't sleep all day because then you're up at night"  which we had heard in the past is when he's the most challenging to the staff.  (also: he's prone to hospital delirium)

Reluctantly we visited for about twenty minutes and I could tell that Kevin was spiky but I'm not sure his dad could tell.  Then the f-i-l suddenly said he had to go to the bathroom and I whispered to Kevin "There's our escape, take it"  Partially because we're not going to wait the fifteen minutes for him to go poo and the other is I wasn't sure Kevin was going to be able to sustain being "friendly".

The bathroom is next to the nurses desk so we couldn't talk to Maria before we left.  Really, there wasn't a point anyway.  She just smiled consolingly and waved as we walked by.

Okay, so.  The man wearing Dad's skin suit is back.

Last time he was in this headspace, we realized that he gets a ton of negative attention. Now, it feels like we're going to have to address that; a request from us that we don't want to hear specifically what he's saying or that they curb their participation in the process of him running his mouth and getting said attention.  As in "We're not talking about that anymore" redirection from the staff.  

THEN later we heard that he's been yelling at staff and demanding to talk to someone on the regular; in addition to walking into the social worker's office. On the daily.

Now Kevin is in the He Can Die Alone headspace and there are zero things that I can say.  This behavior can be attributed to the dementia but again, it's the manipulation and duplicity that I'm struggling with.  The advocate and the dementia specialist says that he shouldn't cognitively be able to behave this way, Yet Here We Are.

If he were just 24/7 an ass (like my dad was) then we could roll with that.  It's the nice to our faces then making serious accusations that has undone me, specifically.  We assume that he doesn't understand the consequences but we don't KNOW what he knows, can process and/or remembers.

SO THEN, for the second time during this whole adventure, someone (professional) wondered if this behavior is from something HE IS WATCHING ON TELEVISION and emulating.   I mean, could be.  He normally  watches only sportsball but it could be.  Wouldn't that just be it, though?  

On TUESDAY we were finally able to reach the social worker assistant and the actual social worker, whom we interact very little with. It took way too many phone calls to achieve that. The social worker lead seemed to have zero idea of what is happening or has happened with Dad.  The assistant s.w. has been the hands-on person with him, so we're assuming that's why.  But it's disconcerting to have someone so clueless when we're depending on them for the wellbeing of a parent.

The Assistant Social Worker reports that he is BIG MAD all over again, except worse than either of the times before.  They have not been able to redirect or de-escalate him.  She inferred that this might be the personality we're going to be stuck with.  She's said that before so it's a thing.  The advocate reported the same issue from a few weeks ago so it's not "just" happening with the facility staff.

Anyway.

The alleged report did not make it past the nursing supervisor so that's good.  We were assuming it would go nowhere but we also assumed he wouldn't be able to report fraud and shut off his bank account; so we have to take everything seriously.

During a conversation with the advocate on Monday, she gently suggested that we designate a Payee, a third party, to oversee his finances.  This protect us and takes away some of the control that dad seems to think he has.  Although, he's mad about what happened in the past, not necessarily what is happening now.  

The facility can become his Payee so they're supposed to have us come sign whatever paperwork is needed.  We didn't hear from them since though so that's right on time. But we're very relieved about that piece.  It occurred to us that when they don't provide his bank balance or bank statements on demand, he's then going to be mad at them as well.

They did fuss about not having his license and the social worker lead asked if we would be open to taking him to get an ID card instead. (HELLO, READ THE ROOM, MY GUY)  I told him no thank you in a kind but very firm manner.  I can take them his license when they have us sign for the Payee process.  The advocate says not to bring it to him, to try to curb his demands, so that's conflicting information.  

We - as a family - are taking a time out for an undetermined amount of time.  We "asked" about doing that and the facility was relieved about not having to ask us to do it.  It was phrased it to Dad to make it seem like it was his idea and he seemed accepting of that.  Only then to phone the sibling just a few minutes later. The sibling declined the call then Dad phoned Kevin about fifteen minutes later and he declined the call. When asked why she thought Dad might call his sons, the social worker felt like he was just "poking the bear" and trying to get attention. Now he hasn't phoned since.

Now, it seems that the Man Wearing Dad's Skin Suit is thinking that he has "won."  The facility reports that he's in good spirits and inferred that it's because he thinks he's in control again.  The fact that he's alienated his children seems to be pinging off of him like Wonder Woman's bracelets.

So, we are all going to get cozy with the mindset (again) that all of his needs are being taken care of and try to find a normal that doesn't include visitation.  If we're being honest, we're all a little relieved to not have to schedule that every week.  A thirty-minute visit is surprisingly exhausting.  

We'll attempt a visit or call when the facility says it is a good time to try and knowing that there might not be a good time to try again.  We were trying to remember how long it's taken in the past two episodes.  The first one it was about one month and the second one was only two weeks.  The second one was the 21 Second Apology  that we felt at the time was something he was told to do versus something he wanted to do.  And here we are.

21 Seconds - A Raising Parents Update

 Okay, so....where were we last with the Raising Parents OMG I WANT TO SMOTHER HIM WITH A PILLOW situation....hmmmm...

Let's start where we are right now....

He likes us again. The man wearing Dad's skin suit has retreated and now he's back to Personality #12.  It's still underlying and I think it will be until this chapter ends and we'll just have to roll with that.  He has spent all of his chances and we've made that very clear - as has the facility.

But, how did we get here you might be wondering.  21 seconds is the answer to that.  

But, wait, what? you're also wondering...

21 seconds is the length of the phone call apology that I received.  And that's a loose definition of apology but we accept.  On average, the calls that we each received were about 25 seconds.  We did the math and it was 1.52 minutes total between all of us, with my sister-in-law having the longer conversation.  She won that prize because - most unlike her - she called him on his b.s.

So, we all moved on with our lives until last Wednesday.  That's when I got a call from the facility at 10 in the morning.  I saw the called ID and my stomach sank.  It was the social worker and I could hear my f-i-l in the background.  Okay...whew?  is that what we're feeling?  Sure.

They were trying to order lunch and his card kept declining. Yeah.  

I logged into his account and saw no fraud alerts or flags so I told them I would have to call the bank to see what was happening, again.  In the meanwhile, I ordered his lunch for him with my money and that's whatever.

I phone the bank and discovered that way back when he reported fraud, they CANCELLED his card.

Yeah. Even though the person told me "Everything is turned back on now" and it wasn't because I couldn't log into the online account and she said "Oops, I forgot to  click that box" and clicked it and I could.

So, it wasn't clear exactly how that happened but it sounds like because there was a Dementia flag put on the account, it was maybe a corporate level bank decision.   OR the person made an error, we will never know. Because it's not that important to me to solve.

But, the reason I have that suspicion is when I went to the actual branch to get him a new card, the manager told me that they would do the process but it's lengthy because we have to file the Power of Attorney OFFICIALLY (and Kevin would have to be there, so no, he's not taking time off of work to solve this issue and I digress...)  Because my f-i-l is no longer able to come into the bank and/or able to be consistently coherent.

And even after all of that, the bank corporate office could reject the request because of the situation.

SIGH.

Now I'm annoyed all over again.  I told Kevin, he's got to deal with this because See Opening Sentence.

So, he talked to his dad and his dad first said he didn't remember doing that. When Kevin explained in further detail, he said that wasn't his intention and then kind of made excuses like I'm just dumb and old and I was trying to get information...in a way that makes me think he knew what he was doing but didn't realize the consequence.  As in, he was trying to get ME off of the account because he was mad.

Also, the bank manager bluntly but kindly asked "Why does he NEED a card? He can't use it where he is, correct?"  And I'm all EXACTLY, I KNOW RIGHT but in a more reserved manner.  Her suggestion was to give him My Card to snuggle with and at first, we thought that was a viable option.  I would just take a photo of my card to do online orders or whatever.

But then Kevin got into his feelings because I was annoyed and frustrated and frankly just sad and overwhelmed.  He told his dad  that he WAS NOT  going to get a new card RIGHT NOW because this was a consequence of his tantrum. (yes, he used the word tantrum) and that when "work slows down and I can TAKE TIME OFF, like Surely HAS HAD TO, TWICE NOW" we will try to get him a new card BUT THAT the bank may still say no.

So now the social worker has a photo copy of the card so they can order whatever they want, under $100.  Oh, and he has cash on hand to do whatever as well. And no one is having a straight up good time right now.

The bank manager also made me put the app on my phone under my name and info so that he can't call again and shut everything off, even though he no longer has a card attached to the account.  "Made me" like the dementia specialist told me to put a dementia notice on the account to protect myself but like, for real, this time.

AND THEN, they took away paper statements. GASP.

If you recall, memory joke not intended but I'm not mad about it, that was one of his first fits of rage: not being able to get bank statements On Demand.  I asked Kevin to just not mention it at all, to anyone, and we'll see if it's even noticed.   If he does, then he gets the same statement as above: this is a consequence.  (in truth, right now they're just steering away from paper statements. But he could still get them for a while BUT the bank manager said in this circumstance: NO.)

Beyond all of that, he's showing signs of winding down. Twice it took him a beat to realize/remember/recognize who we were.  He's not walking much at all.  His memory is starting to be on repeat more than before.  Mostly, his blood pressure is plummeting to alarming lows more frequently.  This is what we were told would most likely be his demise.  But then he said: BET.

He has pressure sore on his toe from pushing against the foot board CONSTANTLY.  He sits at an awkward angle in the bed and refuses any sort of pillow, bolster, adjustment. He holds himself up, for descriptive purposes, and now there's a pressure sore.  But "NO I DON'T!!!" he says, as we're watching him do it.

With his neuropathy, diabetes, and sedentary "lifestyle", they are having difficulties getting it to heal. It's a very real possibility that it infects and/or doesn't heal and eventually: game over.  

So, that's just super fun.

But his cardiologist gave him the all-clear today at a checkup.  The advocate took him because all four of us said "NOT IT" when the appointment was scheduled.  Adding to that, he didn't want us to go anyway because "You don't let me talk"   We do, we just don't let him lie to the doctor about what's happening and we don't let him ramble about all.the.things.that.are.wrong.that.we've.talked.about.eleventy-fifty.times.for.the.love.of.gawd.

Sigh, so yeah, everything's fine. Thanks for asking.

Stop Spray Painting Baby Bunnies

One of the posts that I read over the weekend kind of sparked my brain a little bit: “Interesting to see which of my friends/family/coworkers are actually right-thing-a-bird-flies-with and have been hiding it.”

Hmmm

Because I was genuinely surprised when two people on the bookface posted a RIP Terrible Person post and others commented.  Honestly, I shouldn't be surprised.  But I was. And disappointed.

After a specific day in November 2024, I went on an unfriending spree on the social media. Removed were:

• Anyone who was a proud red hat wearer. 
• Friends I’ve had forever but now just exist in social media and that don't interact. 
• The gentleman who kept commenting and ignoring boundaries on the bookface.  
• Friends with Kevin or we had an interaction once but weren’t tangible in my life anymore.  
• Old high school classmates that were friended for sentimentality only, back when this was all new.

Others I dithered about and waited.

One friend is super extra religious and posted a meme a while ago about the reason that young people are struggling is their lack of  gawd in their lives. I hid her profile after that.  Then later I peeked and it was a pray for our country and a RIP Terrible Person.  Clicked the unfriend button so fast.  

It’s been nearly a year since The Unfriending Spree and not one single person has reached out and that speaks volumes, to me.  Oh wait, the gentleman who kept commenting against my wishes told Kevin to tell me hi the other day.  Kevin said he contemplated saying something to him but just let it go. (it wasn't the time nor place) Otherwise, there hasn’t been a reaction and the lack thereof only confirms my decision.

I am an early adopter when it comes to technology.  So I remember the bookface back when it was all farm fields...lol.  Back when there weren't ads and cultivated content.  When you had to be an actual person with an actual photo. When there were games you could play with your friends and bulletin boards like MySpace, and it was FUN.  I keep hoping that someday it will be more of that than it's current iteration.  I know that's futile though.  

Instead, as a copying mechanism, I switched bookface to topics and pages instead of people/friends.  But then it continues to worsen because *waving of arms* the world we live in right now.  But I keep trying.  

Instead I keep making my circle smaller.  Hiding vs. unfriending, unless they post something egregious.

But the risk of that is missing things. While going through my friends list, I discovered someone got married and I missed it. Clearly we weren't close but we used to be and I'm happy for them.  I have far-away friends that I keep in touch with via that site.  Former coworkers. All of the cousins communicate via there. 

It's the outliers and the liars that have ruined it.  And sometimes it feels like that's all there is: outliers and liars.

For awhile, I just unfollowed people. It does save me some teeth-gritting but it’s of no consequence to the other person. They don't know I've hidden their profile and it feels like silence is acceptance. Also, what’s the point of being “friends” if they’re hidden.  

Kevin has said repeatedly “I would love for someone to ask why I unfriended/unfollowed them.  He has also said to me when it's a mutual “Unfriend them, I’ll tell them why if they ask”.  He is more comfortable with confrontation than I am, and he's better at it.  I tend to wait until I'm mad and then...yikes.

But I used to post Lucy photos and insta photos and family gatherings and I've tried really, really hard to post happy stuff.  Now it just doesn't feel like the time to post those things.  It feels disingenuous.  "Hey the world's on fire and we may die any day but here's photos of the dog!"   However, it could also be said that it's the Exact Time for silly photos of the dog.

When I do post other things, it's for a target audience. My LGTBQ+ and POC friends, family, and coworkers. People like me who feel at sea with all the hatred and ignorance and fear swirling around. I fact-check, I vaguepost things that are subtle and difficult to argue about.  "Baby bunnies are cute! Stop spray painting baby bunnies!" kind of things. How do you come out as pro- spray painting baby bunnies?

Then, yesterday happened. Because I don't learn.

I posted on the bookface and got a little pushback.  I did get a handful of likes from the folks that I mentioned above. That's why I post; because I would like others to not feel as CRAZY as I do after seeing people post mournfully about an entirely awful human being.

Then Monday night, one of the "friends" - that I thought I had unfriended - commented that I should be ashamed of myself. I actually kind of disbelievingly giggled.  Dude, you can't pick me out of a lineup and the only reason you know me is you're a friend of a friend but DO GO ON.  But what I really said was "Then unfriend and move on, sir."  And he did!!  One less, my gawd.

Also, he was upset at the comments attached to the original post...not MY post...so that's like whatever.  And it's one of those, if I wanted to, could answer "How do you not agree with the post?" and they can't answer without looking like an ass.  ("If you want respect in death, you must give it in life.")

The red hat wearer friend, that I've dithered about because reasons, posted that they was disappointed in "the argument I was making".  I thought about it for a long  time then answered "Me too, every day."  They will probably pick up on the nuance of these are things we shouldn't have to argue about, like ever.  But here we are. 

BUT WAIT, there's more and this one...

A person who is NOT a friend and with a very distinctive last name reacted inappropriately and not accidentally with laughter at one post and also at a comment I made.  I searched his name and sure enough, the young son of a friend who I unfriended in November. This friend holds strident opposite beliefs and much like the terrible person, has the attitude that you are profoundly stupid if you disagree with him.  AND AND AND this was the parent who was trying to decide (via social media)  if their son should have social media a while ago. They decided not until he was 18 AND then this happens. Their son doesn't know me and his parent hasn't reached out in the past year. So, I blocked the son and I'm considering blocking them now.  

Finally, the friend that I knew couldn't resist commenting finally commented and it wasn't bad, actually.  I've decided they kind of gets a pass because they're on the spectrum and just can't do second step thinking at all.  Any time they discuss these kinds of things in person, they fold.  Also, I've noticed a pattern of if they doesn't like it or it scares them, then "it can't be true..."  To which I think that's how we got here as a society.  They also do the "not you guys..." They are genuinely upset if they think we're upset.  This one is complicated with the unfriending policy. This friend phoned Kevin every day when his mom was dying. This friend brought us food at the racetrack and fed all of us. They send me silly dog videos and loves Lucy.  They're a generally good person, who is one of those folks that got brainwashed.  We have hope that someday they'll figure it out. Meanwhile, Kevin is going to ask them to just stop commenting on my posts.

As I explained to Kevin when he asked why I bother, I feel like posting some things is needed. People who aren't like me need people like me to speak up

Finally, there was a trend of "Unfriend me if..." and I participated in that. Like with the November unfriending spree, I will wait to see if anyone notices.  I think one will and Will Ask.  To which, I will say that I did as they asked and that was a consequence.  I thought about texting them first but thought "I don't have to announce my departure."

This world right now.  I’m quiet quitting the bookface and insta. I'm making my circle small.   Perfect world is if you don’t exist in my day-to-day, you don’t exist on my social media.  Meanwhile:

Stop spray painting baby bunnies. 

Complicated Crossings

 So, on par with living in the dumbest timeline: We were pulled in at the border.

Clearly, it was resolved as here I am so everyone: breathe.  Also, they're not interested in middle-aged white folks.  Until they are.

Long story, long: After achieving a goal and personal best with the racecar, we discovered that the engine had broken.  Again: dumbest timeline.

This began a search for what was seemingly way-too-difficult-to-obtain engine block. (don't worry, this won't be a car thing)  Luckily, our Canadian friends came through and not only found us one but also did the necessary work.

On Saturday, we went to the track to see our friends.  We crossed both ways with zero issues.  I deleted my bio-metrics off of my phone, just in case.  It seems paranoid but it is a recommendation if you're going through the border.

Then on Monday, we went through a different border to get the engine block.  (there are four available border crossings where I live)  We crossed through with no problem other than the "When was the last time you were in Canada?" - because they do keep track - and my favorite "Did you bring any drugs/alcohol/firearms with you?" To which I replied "We're not that kind of Americans." This made Kevin laugh, not so much the agent.

We went to our friends house, had a nice visit, then went back to the border.  We had paperwork from the machine shop and declared what we had brought back.  The agent sighed, gave us a slip of paper and pulled us in.  SUPER.

This is where I say Kevin and I disagree. I'm okay with lying my face off.  I've said no when I've brought stuff across (car parts, not illegal stuff) We've lied and said we haven't purchased anything but Kevin "declared" this time.  He should have said that he brought it up to them to have work completed and was returning, they actually LIKE that but will ask why you don't have the worked completed in the US. So, it's a thing.

Now, we've been pulled in before.  Usually you're met by an agent and walked to the office.  This time, we were met with a grumpy agent who asked us why we were pulled in.   Kevin explained and the agent said, and I quote "Shit..."  He cast a glance over to the booth who pulled us in and dejectedly said "Go inside..."

Kevin grabbed his paperwork and not his wallet. I grabbed my phone and my ID.  We walked in and approached the desk.  One agent was working with a couple and the other waved us forward.  Kevin explained what had happened and this agent also sighed heavily.  He took our paperwork and said he'd be back after inspecting our vehicle.

We sat down, as did the other couple. There was a family also waiting who had arrived before us.  Everyone is friendly but clearly nervous.

Now, I tend to get sassy when I'm nervous.  Just know that and keep reading. 

We waited like ten minutes and the guard returned.  He called our names and we began to approach.  Another couple approached the agent, who was of a very different ethnic background.  We paused and we heard the agent say "Are you Kevin and Surely Could-Not-Be-MORE-Causcasian-Surname?" knowing obviously that they weren't.  The  couple apologized and stepped back.  I mentioned to Kevin, "If this doesn't go our way, maybe can they be us?" to which I got the side-eye from Kevin.

The agent explained that because of the ACTUAL USE OF FINGER QUOTES "Tr*mp Trade War" there is now strictly enforced duty on metal.  Now I'm doing math in my head as to how much it is it worth to pay the duty and/or that we were going to have to return to our friends house to drop it back off. And how we could go through a different border and not declare....So the agent turned into Charlie Brown's Teacher for a moment.

When I tuned back in, he said that he would have to determine the ORIGIN of the manufacturer.  He said that he knew it was a fool's errand as that is nearly impossible to determine but he's required to do so.  We return to our waiting bench.

Cue me searching the interwebs as to how to determine  the manufacturer of an engine block. The interwebs laughed and said "It can be done but good luck with that."  A few minutes later, the agent returned and explained basically what I just wrote.  He said it could be made in Canada, the US, or Mexico, all of which are involved in trade agreements.  He made the determination that it was probably made in the US or Canada and because it's a resale, duty has already been paid so we were free to go.  Whew.  But first: paperwork.  

As he's working on the computer, another agent calls up the previous couple.  He has a plant in his hands (those are not allowed across borders) and he gave them the option of leaving it at the border or returning into Canada and making arrangements for it's shipping.  The woman looked dismayed and said "I guess we have to leave it..."  To which, I replied "I hope it's not their love fern..."  I saw the agent that was working with us duck his head a little so he got the joke.  Kevin just raised an eyebrow at me.  (love fern, for reference)

Few minutes later, we're released to leave with basically a note from the agent.  He gave directions how to leave and said something about the next agent will be annoyed if we go the wrong way.  SUPER.

We returned to the truck and Kevin had to rewrap and strap the engine block back down.  I closed the back door to the truck, where clearly parts and paperwork had been rifled through, and waited.

We left the correct way so the agent wasn't annoyed and went home.

Fast forward a week later, and there is a part missing.  One of a set of eight.  It appears that when they inspected the truck and contents therein, somehow one of a set was lost.  It might have fallen on the ground and no one noticed.  Or, as Kevin joked, one of the agents took one to be "funny".  

This is where I tell you that there is zero compensation in these situations.  If you are pulled in for an inspection, the liability is on you.  The only way to address this is to return to the border and talk to an agent, which will most likely result in frustration only.

$30 and a week later, we replaced the part and  now we're trying to move on.  Kevin crosses the border on Saturday, albeit a different border, and is considering asking about it.

This is actually a boring border crossing story for us. Once I was asked what the nature of my relationship was to a friend whom I was running parts for.  This one triggered my feminist  side SO HARD.  There's the times (twice) that we crossed shortly after Kevin had radiation treatment and set off all the alarms ON BOTH SIDES.  Or the time I got pulled in  after midnight because I set off the alarms.  (the only thing we can think of was I picked up something at the racetrack) Or the time Kevin crossed with only a temporary ID and they did not see the humor in that.

Wait, funny story: when he only had temporary ID, he was escorted to the other border crossing office by an agent to be processed. (they had that border agent verify his citizenship).  I went to follow them and the agent curtly told me to wait.  Kevin turned and said "Stay!" with a dog training gesture and I replied "Woof", which is a long-running joke in our relationship.  The agent with him did not see the humor but we made another unrelated-to-the-situation agent laugh.

Or the time we had Canadian RCMP ask us if we would be open to being part of a drug task force K-9 training.  They hid drugs on our vehicle for the dog to find.  I thought it was the best day ever but Kevin was sweating bullets that the RCMP would forget and we would have drugs on us as we crossed.  They didn't and the agents thanked us for allowing it, many people don't, apparently.

So, yeah. Crossing the border can be interesting at times.  If you ever do, here is my advice:

• Pay Attention.  Wait your turn. Follow directions. (you assume this is obvious, it's not)
• Turn off your vehicle.
• Take off your sunglasses.
• Be PREPARED. Have your ID/passport.
• Roll down the backseat windows.
• I keep my door locked for safety but unlocking them is a courtesy.
• Answer the question asked.  Don't elaborate, they don't care and it makes you seem nervous.
• Be polite, be friendly.  It goes a long ways and yes, they will track your info if you're overly nervous, agitated or rude.
• Keep your hands in sight and/or your body movements calm.  Don't reach back behind the seat to show them your Championship Trophy in excitement, it makes them nervous. (True story. KEVIN.)

And Then There Was A Flood...

 As if we weren't having enough fun, there was a flood...because: of course there was.

6:00 on Saturday morning - a week ago now - Kevin work up then went out to the front room to discover the kitchen flooded and water spreading everywhere.  He yelled for me and I went out there without glasses and stepped into a lake of about 1/4-1/2 inch deep.  A broken pipe fitting under the kitchen sink had flooded the kitchen, pantry, laundry room, and common folk bathroom.  He got the water shut off to the entire house and the breakers off for all the appliances then we just kind of stood there in shock for a minute.  

LUCKILY I tend to hoard towels.  I had five stacked on the dryer that I was dithering about keeping or taking for donation.  Then I pulled the clean towels out of the dryer and the dirty towels out of the laundry. Every towel I could find in the house was put to use and then Kevin got towels from his shop. There wasn't a square inch that was not covered in absorbent material from one end of the house to nearly the other.

Kevin worked in the kitchen and I worked in the bathroom until we met in the middle. At one point, he mentioned "It seems like I got more done than you, what is happening?"  I laughed and replied "I'm saying this with love: EFF OFF."  He was so IN IT that he just couldn't see the big picture so he's forgiven.  He didn't see the closet that has the vacuum and carpet cleaner, the bags of pellets for the stove, the two heavy soaked rugs.  Whereas he had smaller square footage but had to deal with the recycling bins.  He was wringing his towels out in the garbage can and I was using the bathtub.  It was not apples to apples but apples to watermelon in comparison.

I threw the rugs outside and put the wet towels in the bathtub because no water and no power to the appliances, and omg I hated that.  We got out every fan we have and luckily have an industrial fan for the racecar that its intended use is Just For This Purpose.  Nephew came over and said do this, do this, do this and told Kevin what to get to repair the valve that broke.  (Nephew is a HVAC professional)

While simultaneously, I searched what to do in this situation and it was exactly what Nephew said.  Run the A/C unit is the first thing because it's a dehumidifier.  I didn't know that at all.  We turned on the air circulation fan for the furnace to help also.  Now everything is wet and everything is SO LOUD.

Once we got up all the water, we had to pull out every single appliance. There was barely any moisture under the brand new refrigerator (thank the universe) Then Kevin pulled out the dishwasher and the same situation.  I'm glad for that for two reasons: my f-i-l installed it and flooded the kitchen TWICE.  The stove (also new-ish) was just damp, no standing water.  I had said the DAY BEFORE that I needed to pull it out and clean it because of the gap between the counter and the stove. #JINX

Then the same for the washer and dryer, which also remarkably had little water underneath and the furnace & hot water tank were completely dry.  We wiped everything down and put fans blowing in the laundry room as well.

We cleaned ourselves up the best we could while without water and went into town.  We didn't get the part at the first store but we did at the second. We had a terrible experience at the first store and that's what we get for not going to the local hardware store FIRST.

We got Egg McMuffins for breakfast, let Lucy go potty, then went back home to the fifth circle of Hell.  While he fixed the sink, I cleaned up everything that I could, dumping towel after towel into the bathtub and mopping like a janitor on the Titanic.  Finally I used the carpet cleaner to draw the water out of the edge of the carpet.  We were insanely lucky that the water only went out maybe three inches in two areas of carpet and remained mostly unscathed.  

The "lucky" thing is that we had LVP flooring over the existing linoleum and that linoleum also was installed into the hallway/living room about three feet.  So under the carpet is padding then linoleum. Otherwise, we would have probably had to pull up the carpet.  Eventually I switched to a wet/dry vac and we got 85% of the water out of the carpet.

Then as I was trying to step over a cord between both the carpet cleaner and the wet/dry vac, I tripped and wrestled the carpet cleaner to the ground.  I just started laughing as I gingerly got up, testing for broken bones and blood. The fans were SO LOUD that Kevin didn't hear me fall.  I thought I got away with it until I saw that the fall had snapped the cord keeper off the cleaner.  I had to ask Kevin for help, who was both puzzled and amazed that it had happened.  He tried to fix it then sighed "I have to go out the shop..."  I said "It's just the cord keeper, I can live without it if it can't be fixed."  Absentmindedly he says "I can fix but you took the fucking player out of the game, man."  To which I started to genuinely laugh until I felt it start to convert to tears then I'm all NOPE.

Eventually I had to run to Walmart to get more fans and DampRid (which IRONICALLY has that new commercial where people are saying "DAMP!" like a curse word.)  Kevin started drilling stew can sized holes in the bottom of the kitchen cabinets to check for water between the floor and the cupboards.  I was having nightmares of having to get a new run of cupboards on that wall but also a little intrigued with the idea. Kevin just looked at me and said "Only if insurance pays for it." so that quickly ended that little momentary fantasy.  

Anyway, the main cabinet where the leak occurred had water underneath it but it easily cleaned. The island  strangely did not have any water, and the other cupboards were damp but not wet.  The bathroom cupboard had a little water underneath.  Could have been so much worse.

And then I will admit that we forgot three cabinets. This kitchen does not lack for cabinet space. The first one is the one right next to the sink. It was a separate unit and was mostly dry. We have zero explanation why we missed it other than the doors were open so our brains just skipped over it. The other two didn't get checked until the next day; one next to the refrigerator with no water present underneath and the one on the other side of the stove which was damp but not wet.

Now we have holes in the bottom of all floor level cupboards and fans blowing into them.  Timing was "perfect" as fans were on sale at the walmart for $13 so now we have three...four?...extra fans.  It worked perfectly though with fans blowing across the floors and also down into the cupboards.  It was Ridiculously Loud though.

 We  were thinking we had it handled when he realized we hadn't checked the heating vents.  The vents are what saved us a LOT of damage as they drained the water out of the house. The one in the kitchen had water, of course which then traveled to the bathroom, of course.  Finally, there was a little water in the vent in my office because they're all on the same chase. (new vocabulary alert!)

One of the suggestions was a dehumidifier so Kevin brought his in from the shop just to discover that it was broken.  I then bought a small dehumidifier for the bathroom as a precaution only to replace the one in the shop eventually.  We probably didn't need it but it's a source of information and comfort.  Although, this version has LED lighting for some unknown reason.  AND as if that's not enough: the light color changes so it's like a little water feature/rave.

Oh and the internet suggested hygrometers, which are super inexpensive.  Then I realized that our thermometers tell us the same information.  But now I've learned about water grains and what the average is supposed to be. (30-60%)  The nerd part of both of us keep putting them in different areas to measure.  To the point of multiple questions of"Where are the gauges...?"

Then Kevin went under the house, of which I am 100% NO THANK YOU.  It's too claustrophobic down there.  He said there was some damp insulation under the kitchen - by the heating vents - but it was surprisingly dry and what was wet was quickly drying.  Otherwise he couldn't see any damage.  Then later he and Nephew rechecked it and Nephew felt confident that we have addressed everything.  

Now we just were going to live with fans for as long as we could stand it.  The first night we each had headphones and just played with our phones until we went to bed exhausted.  The second night wasn't as bad as we reduced a few of the fans but the A/C was still on so it was chilly inside. On Monday I just went into my office and pretended nothing had happened.  Finally on Tuesday, the two industrial fans went under the house to dry anything that had possibly gotten wet.  The sound was less but the asthma yelled at me for a few days because of all the dust and damp. 

So, that was super fun.  Zero stars.  Everything is spotless now so I guess that's a good thing?  The other possible shiny side is that it made me reorganize the cabinets to a ridiculous degree.

Through this process I was so triggered by that situation. I immediately went back two years in time to the parents house and re-lived it but it's worse because it's Our Home.  All I could imagine is the contractors tearing up their house and finding problem after problem.  Their water leak was undetected for a long time though. We've done all the remediation and then some; so now we just have to get past it.  

There are still two industrial fans blowing underneath the house just to make absolutely sure there is zero water.  Nephew and one of the guys who is on Kevin's crew ( who was a general contractor) told him that while it's not bad that he's doing all the fans, etc., he can relax now.  So that's some relief.  

Other than a little swollen wood on the lip of the cupboard under the sink, we see zero damage.  It took two moppings to get the floor clean as everything came up from between the seams and under appliances.  But they said the LVP flooring is the best to have in a water damage situation so that's good, I guess.  Now it's been a week and the only reason one would guess there was a disaster is if they looked in the cupboard and saw the plates Kevin installed to cover the holes.

Everything is put right and the cupboards are SO ORGANIZED now.  As an extension of my Pantry Reorganization Project, every single cupboard has been organized and a load of donations have already been dropped off.

I put down two layers of shelf paper to cover the seams of the cupboards and the holes under the sink.  I don't care about the other holes in the other cupboards, Kevin put them way at the back so you would only notice if the cupboards were empty.  We said at least twice "That's the kid's problem now..."

We don't think it's an homeowner's claim but we notified the agent all the same.  That way if something suddenly happens, we have record of it.  We didn't get any photos because of OUTRIGHT PANIC AND DISMAY so hopefully those are never needed.

Finally, at the end of Saturday Kevin says that we're going out to dinner because no way could anyone cook in the kitchen right now. He asked the age-old question of "Where do you want to go?"  I responded "I don't know...does anything sound good to you?"  He sighs heavily and says "You know, we haven't fought through this entire experience. Can you just ANSWER THE QUESTION."

You gotta have a sense of humor through these things or life will kill you...

The Signs We Missed - Raising Parents Suggestions

 Okay, so *rolling of shoulders*

This is what I have learned about dementia in the past three weeks.

The early signs are so easy to miss or notice and/or attributed to stubbornness or aging.  Now that we know these signs, I am horrified that we missed SO MUCH for SO LONG.

• Not drinking water.  This was an endless battle with both of my in-laws.  The dementia changes it so they cannot recognize that they are thirsty, can't identify the feeling of thirst and shrug it off, and/or cannot take the steps to get a drink, even if the drink is right in front of them.
• Denying that anything is wrong or stating that we worry too much about what they're doing.  This is actually called a thing!  Anosognosia  The inability to actual know/recognize that they can't walk steadily, take their meds, etc.  Their brain is literally telling them that everything is FINE.
• Inability to complete Tasks with multiple steps.  Cooking is the best example.  Suddenly something that they could make in their sleep is not possible; ingredients are missing or wrong, things are burnt or undercooked.  Simple things that one just thinks "Oh, that's weird. Let me help..." Or in my father-in-law's case: the inability to check fluids on his vehicle.  He could do one step but then it was all over.  He was a truck driver so this was a huge red flag that we just went "Hmmm".
• "Financial Mis-steps"  Long time readers will remember the story about my m-i-l calling because her bank account "is empty"  or falling for a telephone scam, or ordering 600 socks from Amazon.  We didn't realize that this was a true DEMENTIA sign and not just an aging/memory thing.

Both of the parents were showing signs of dementia years ago. But, as happens, they propped each other up and made it work.  Then once everything happened, the curtain was pulled back.  

They say don't take it personally and that "It's the disease talking" when they say awful things.

• While a person can intellectualize that, it still hurts your effing feelings. It's nearly impossible to not take it personally. Especially and specifically if you had a good or great parent.  It would be easier...not easier but roll with me...if it were my parents as that relationship was already dysfunctional.
• In my online research,  I noticed a difference in guidance between the professionals and the actual caregivers.  While the pros are saying "You can't take it personally" the caregivers are "Of course you take it personally AND you have to protect yourself but also try to suck it up"

• They will say "You have to keep trying..." In our instance as he's in a facility, No we don't.  This is cold-hearted perhaps, but his needs are being met, they love him  there, and he probably can't tell if we were there yesterday or last month.  Not only are we a trigger in his broken brain, we don't need to volunteer for abuse.  In this case, we are "lucky" that he is in a facility.  

When all is said and done, we still need to have all of our relationships and self esteem intact after he passes and the risk of that not happening increases with each episode.

They say "Don't engage" and this is true. We just have failed miserably at it.  Both of the big verbal altercations were just so out of the blue surprises so we simply weren't prepared. But the human part of you feels compelled to reason or try to de-escalate and you can't. You simply can't.  The "They're fighting battles you cannot see" is incredibly apt in this situation.  You can't argue with crazy is something I've said for years and now it applies here as well.

• The advice I was given by the dementia therapist drew on my traumatic childhood, of all things. She said "You know how to read a room, you know the signs.  Use that as an advantage. If the vibe is off or you feel it shift, make any excuse and leave. It doesn't matter the excuse, just leave."  Well, I have that going for me, I guess. The key is to pay attention then leave at the first sign of trouble. 
• They say you can try to redirect them with asking a random question or offering them a snack or turning on the television or radio.  I believe that this could work in some instances, but just not with my f-i-l.  He's in it and will not disengage or will for a moment then return to it. The staff have experienced that from him as well.

You have to self-protect.  Not in the way that I mentioned above, but yes.  

• The reporting fraud to the bank really could have gone sideways for me, pretty easily.  Luckily, it was obvious to the bank that something was wrong.  Others might present themselves as lucid though so just keep that in the back of your head.  If you're in this situation, report the dementia status to the bank so they can make a note on the account.  Report it to anyone that you think they may reach out to. (doctors, insurance agents, etc.)
• Give others a heads-up that this is happening so that when they hear "stories" from the person they're not shocked or sucked into the drama.  Like we did with our uncle and with the friend my f-i-l had just spoken to. We are aware that there is a cousin that is siding with him because they haven't reached out to us to see what's happening and that's going to happen as well.
• While the facility knows that the accusations are most likely untrue, there is likely documentation occurring.  Keep documentation of your own for the big things like this.  This can also help if ever the need  for a conservatorship.  The court will need examples of what has happened to land you there.  Simply a date and a sentence written like "Called the bank and reported fraud"
• Trust but verify.  You have to follow up on complaints, even though you're 95% certain that it's the delusions.  Confirm things said with siblings, family members, and friends. We have gotten different stories from different sources, depending on which personality my f-i-l had during that specific conversation.

Other things:

• We were told that if the person was sweet in their real life, they will be sour in this version. And vice versa.  I don't know if that's helpful or not, but I found it interesting.
• I'm trying to figure out how to succinctly phrase this.  My f-i-l was known by the nickname of his given name (think Andy instead of Andrew) and/or a genuine nickname.  When he entered the facility, he suddenly wanted to be know by his given name. No nickname, just his government name.  As we've progressed, he has also identified as "Mr. Smith" and even lapsed into third person.  I was told this wasn't unusual.
• Finally, the biggest thing that helped me is to imagine that he is Benjamin Button.  He is actually "aging backwards"  Instead of a baby/toddler/preschooler gaining skills, he is losing them  AND he is unable to learn new skills. For example, he is able to track his blood pressure to an obsessive level, but he was unable to figure out how to track when his meds were taken. The blood pressure tracking skills are saved on his hard drive but his hard drive is full and/or fritzing.

Finally, I've taken to referring to him as Personality #12 or recently in a hugely inappropriate coping method "The guy who is currently wearing Dad's skin suit."

Because if you don't keep your sense of humor, all is certainly lost.

August

 

We Did Everything Wrong - A Raising Parents Story

 My original email to my BFF was titled "It happened again.  This is ridiculously long."  I will try to not barf words and feelings into this bloggity.

But seriously: OMG.

Remember when I said that my father-in-law had settled into the facility and we thought we had made some progress?  Nah, never mind. We couldn't be further from being right.  Right is in the ditch and on fire.

So, he had a great few weeks and the meds adjustment that I may or may not have told you about was finally making a difference. He had dinner and breakfast with the family on two separate occasions, and had a long phone conversation with an old friend/boss.  

Then.  During his daily call with his boys, he mentioned that he wanted to have a family meeting.  It wasn't a big deal, nothing to worry about, and no, it wasn't about money, he said.  Color both boys skeptical.

He said it wasn't a hurry, we could wait until the weekend when we regularly visit.  We called his bluff and said We Are Doing It Now.  We're not playing any sort of game here.  

Now I'm scanning my brain to try to guess what he could possibly want to meet about. I thought it was going to be a request to go out of the facility more, be more independent or spend time with family.  Kevin thought it was going to be something about his doctor's appointments - because he has one in September so now is the time to plan for that. My b-i-l's nightmare/guess was he wanted to come back home. My sister-in-law had no guesses.

Pause while I copy/paste from the email because OMG...

S-i-l and I arrived first  to the facility and we were waiting in the lobby and the conference room for residents is adjacent to the lobby.  We were just kind of lingering for 1-2 minutes. Out of nowhere, the f-i-l says "Hello girls" or something like that and startled the hell out of me.  So much so that another person  waiting in the lobby laughed out loud. I made the joke of "This is NOT the place you want to hear voices from the great beyond!" 

Well, f-i-l was sitting in a chair that was propping the conference room door open, with the lights off and didn't say anything immediately when we arrived.  This should have been a warning but we just thought whatever about it. His usual greeting is "Hello, kid!" or "Hello there, persons name" so we're already off to a weird start.

So we go into the room and s-i-l and I sit next to each other while the f-i-l drags a chair to the table and sits at the head of the table. He's very quiet and serious, which is very unlike him.  He awkwardly makes small talk like "are you busy at work?" until Kevin arrives after a 11-hour work day in 90 degree heat.  He is in NO MOOD and was a little curt when f-i-l asked him a similar question to ours.  Then the b-i-l arrived and sat next to Kevin.

We all sat there and let him start this meeting. His demeanor was almost formal and said something like "thank you for coming and I wanted to have everyone together..."

 He said that he's been upset and "Crying in my room all week over this" and he wants to talk about it. He was literally giddy the day before because he talked to his friend, so  our spidey senses went even more up.  (Also, the facility would have phoned us)

He continues: "Back in January when we had that disagreement, who started it?"  To which, we inappropriately collectively responded  with "YOU!!!"   I think it was just a reaction borne of shock.

IMMEDIATELY he was angry. IMMEDIATELY  "I did not! I was mad because SHE - and he finger-points at me - Would NOT give me my bank statement or even tell me how much I had in the bank!"  

Kevin, incredulously - calmly says "Dad, we said we're not talking about  money. If that's what we're going to talk about then..." and his dad interrupts him with the whole spiel that we experienced in January, accusing/implying that we hid money from him and/or spent it on ourselves.  Conversely, he is ALSO mad that we spent our own money on him.

Again, he raised his voice at me and pointed and I responded "Okay, I'm going home. I'm not doing this." and looked at Kevin.  Kevin went all I'm The Captain Now and told his dad "You aren't going to speak to her like that, you'll speak only to me and be Very Careful How You Proceed."  So I gave it a beat to see what would happen next.

Now, all the therapists, social workers, med staff state to not engage in these situations.  TELL ME HOW WE'RE SUPPOSED TO DO THAT.  But I sat quietly, with my keys and phone in my hand.  Kevin reiterated that we weren't going to talk about this because this was settled and why is it coming up again; meaning what brought this on, not let's rehash this, etc.  F-i-l continues on this rant again about how we spent his money and bought a blanket but I said that we bought it and the paperwork says he bought it and...we were all just nonplussed.  

Voices got raised because this is a loud family who likes to argue. Again, we did everything wrong.  We admit it but it's nearly impossible to no react when you are ambushed like that.

At one point, as I stood up, the f-i-l said something like "Why don't I know this? No one has told me ANYTHING" and I said exactly what I'm not supposed to say "Because you've forgotten.  You've forgotten and that sucks and that's hard but you don't get to be mad at US."  This  momentarily silenced him but with a wave of his hand like whatever, which then set the boys back off again.

My s-i-l finally loudly said "THEY SAID TO WALK AWAY IN THIS SITUATION. WALK AWAY."  She never, ever, ever raises her voice. EVER.  So we were momentarily silenced then I said "You're right, that's what we have to do."   

Kevin sat back incredulously and looked at me "They said this would happen again and here we are, it's happening."  Then the verbal ruckus started again until Kevin said "This is over, we're done" to which the f-i-l slapped his hands on the table and said "Then this meeting is OVER" and went to stand, as if we're being dismissed.  The brother wades into the fray with "Well, then you're just going to stay mad at us? You don't trust us?" and s-i-l and I walked out.  I went to my car and stayed on the side where I wasn't visible to the windows.  The f-i-l doesn't know my car but I could envision him trying to storm out of the facility.

 A few minutes later, the boys finally came out and said that he was returning to his room mad as hell at all of us.  To which, I laughed - because: traumatic childhood- all I could imagine was "storming" away at a snails pace with a walker and it was funny in my head.  We all just kind of stood there in stunned silence  then the brother just said "I guess we just go home now..." and we went to our own cars.  We went home and was just defeated.

The next day I phoned the facility and left a voicemail for the assistant social worker, explained that we had a verbal altercation and wanted to ask a few questions.  

Then I texted the advocate and asked her to phone me for a quick conversation.

Then I called the dementia specialist to ask what we should do now. I explained that the "consequence" last time was nearly a month of no contact because it took that long for him to get out of that particular headspace.  She is Team No Consequence and I'm gritting my teeth about that.  She thinks we should keep our regular visitation schedule and just excuse ourselves when he starts in. I explained that we're exhausted and hurt and please don't say "It's the disease, it's not your dad" because that is unhelpful.  I told her that we were taking  a break to keep ourselves safe but we would work on that boundary.  

My frustration with this particularly is she is advising us but hasn't met Kevin's dad. She's just providing help/therapy for us. So, by her own admittance to be fair, her answers are usually one-size-fits-all.  This sounds like a complaint but it's more an acknowledgement.

 

However, the  therapist was curious about the personality shift, as per the kind of formal and "in charge" at the beginning of the meeting, which isn't him AT ALL and the calling of a meeting in and of itself.  He's never been a supervisor or in any kind of position like that. Not even within the family structure or hierarchy was he the boss.  He was gone all the time, on the road.  So we wondered if he saw something on television.  I'm now wondering if he was acting like his old friend he had talked to, who was the Owner of the company he worked for.  But we'll never know.

She was very puzzled at the manipulation; the "nothings wrong, no this isn't about money" when it was and also the drastic mood change in less than 24 hours.  She did say that we have no idea what time means to him now.  His one minute can mean a whole day at this point, it's difficult to judge.  But this applies to the "all of a sudden" change, perhaps.   Also that, strangely, he shouldn't be cognitively able for such conivery.

Then right after that, the advocate phoned me back and before I could explain what happened, she said that he had called her TWICE.  She didn't say it like this but basically he called to tattle, twice.  Strangely, he's referring to himself as Mr. Johnson with her. (WUT)   I explained how the meeting came to be and went, which was of course different than he reported.  

She did not focus on his issues other than to say that he appears to be stuck back in November. again.  He wants his debit card again.  

She's already had her appointment with him this month but said she would check in to see what's happening with the facility.

Meanwhile,  Kevin spoke with the assistant social worker and she said she would check on him.  She did then reported that he was "blubbering like a girl" in his room and hadn't left his room all day.  She said that she spoke with him about what happened and could get him to agree that we weren't robbing him blind and that we were good kids but could NOT get him to stop being angry.  She said he reacted to her just like he did to us. Amenable and then FURIOUS.

We asked if they could medicate him through this and she said she would check with the nurses to see if that was a thing.  She said she would call Kevin by the end of the day and then...did not.

Cue us calling the facility over and over but didn't get any satisfying answers. This is not the first time that this has happened.  I'm going to call and schedule a care meeting so the family can get an update on his overall status.

 Everything I've researched states that the facility should be having bloodwork and urinalysis completed.  They may have but I suspect not. Also, I learned to call this particular thing a delusion, not a memory issue.  It's both but he's clearly not based in reality right now.  

There is nothing concrete to be done otherwise.  We're switching focus to making sure he's taken care of and the facility is helping him through this instead of US fixing the issue; because that's unfixable. He's not in his right mind and we can't keep signing up for what is essentially abusive.

Then next day, I called the facility and asked for help scheduling a care conference, which sounds more formal than it actually is.  It's meeting with his nurse, social worker, etc. for an overall update.  I left a voicemail with the social worker, again.

Then two hours later, I phoned again and asked for help because no one is returning our calls.  I was put directly through to the assistant social worker. The one who originally did not return our calls.  She did answer.

I explained what had happened and then she explained what happened.  They "staffed" on him this morning so everyone is aware of what is happening.  And it is A LOT:

He is angry at us and refuses to see or talk to us.

He has demanded that the facility NOT share information with us specifically.

He had demanded that NO ONE have ANY conversation regarding him without him being present 

He wants to know where his $100 a month is.  (Medicaid allowance)

So, he's IN IT and it seems that they're not confident if he's coming out of it.  It could be that he's tipped all the way into Stage 5ish dementia at this point.  That makes this easier and harder.  

 

Then I'll leave out the details that the facility had a report over the weekend that he had left the building unattended.  They notified the wrong family, it wasn't our dad. SIGH.

I asked for guidance as to next steps. 

I explained that we cannot and will not go talk to him at this point in time.  She agreed but they also want to facilitate visitation so that's a sticky area for them.

I asked if  they had run blood tests and urinalysis but she wasn't sure or was vague.

I asked what power, if any, the durable power of attorney holds when he makes proclamations like he has.  She said that it could become a thing and to which I responded "Then he's your problem to solve. I'm not being flip or sarcastic, he ties our hands."  She said she understands.

I asked her if he is at the point of needing a facility change and she said "Not yet" but I have a feeling that we may not have a choice if he did become a flight risk or worse, combative with the staff. She said that they have had difficulty talking him down more recently. (something they should have reported to us)

Then she said she would go meet with him then phone me back with the details.  Hours went by with no call. I had to call again.

She reported that she had a "come to jesus talk" with him and asked him why he thinks his kids are hiding things, etc.  He was not able to answer that question clearly and shrugged it off.  She could get him to agree that his kids love him and want the best for him but when it's time to connect the two thoughts, he's unable.  He's like a toddler who is so tired and angry and they just Can't Even.

She asked him if he wanted to know why SHE THINKS he's upset and he said yes.  She told him straight up that she thinks he's mad and frustrated that he's losing his independence.  He agreed. (don't get your hopes up) Because then he immediately complained that he told b-i-l that he wanted to barbecue and that he said no.  She asked him why he would say no and he said "Because he says I will fall."  YES, that is a thing.

So she offered that we could use the backyard of the facility to have a barbecue and he said he didn't know they could do that and maybe that would work.  To which I replied "You gave him a solution, gdammit!" and laughed. She took it as WE would have to follow up with that and Yes, but I meant it as you gave HIM a solution so he'll have to find something else to be mad about. And he will.

To clarify, it was a vague conversation with no plan and it was extrapolated out to HE WON'T BARBECUE FOR ME; aligning with the thought that he's about kindergarten level cognitively.

I'm editing the conversation reminding him of the goal the facility set for him months ago to participate at the facility and he refuses. Because: reasons.

By taking his debit card and cash to him, it takes those two complaints off of the table. I told her that I'm not interested in seeing him right now and I think she was a little disappointed with that but understands.  While she knows what happened, I don't think she understands how ugly it was in context to the last 35 years we've been with him.  She's only experienced this version of him.

I also posited that there is perhaps a level of manipulation happening and that he will react differently to a male than to a female.  

So, now the boys are still having big feelings and that's righteous. The next time(s) we have to have good boundaries. If the vibe is off or he starts in, then we're out and we'll visit less often.  Both boys have mentioned an apology and I reminded him that we really didn't get one last time and it's too high of an expectation at this point.  I tried to make the comparison of  9-year-old Nephew who has better judgement and emotional regulation than their dad does now.

The dementia therapist gave me the idea/tool/whatever to use my Early Childhood degree/experience and make comparisons as he's actually aging backward.  He's lost emotional regulation so that takes him to the Kindergarten range.  He's like the kid who is intelligent but socially & emotionally immature.  I can kind of apply that in this situation but no one else has had that kind of experience or education. 

Then I realized that he is getting SO MUCH negative attention in this situation and that pairs with the kindergarten level also. Now I need to figure out how to make this information make sense to Kevin.  I managed to make a car analogy about his memory and car wiring so there's hope. lolsigh.

BUT WAIT, there's MORE.

The next day, as planned I was going to take the f-i-l's debit card and his monthly allowance to the facility. But first, I thought I would log into his bank account (that I am a co-owner of), print out a recent statement and include that with the cash and card.  

And: error message.  I'm not able to log in and I have to call a 1-800 number.

Immediately I'm mad.  I knew/suspected - yet hoped not - but knew he had called the bank and created a mess.

I called the number and sat on hold for 20 minutes while I worked before I finally hung up because that's ridiculous.  (Bank of America, btw)

I went directly to the branch, gave them my ID and debit card and explained what happened, even showing them the error message on my phone.  Their demeanor changed so now I knew I was in it. There was a fraud hold on his account so only deposits were allowed, no other  transactions.  

They gave me a telephone number to call that was different than what was on the website.  I went out to the car and phoned it.  There is a code/extension that is required and if you don't have it, the call disconnects.  I walked back into the bank and explained what happened to a different teller.  She gave me a different number and said it would connect directly to a human.

Back out to the car I go and I dial the number.  I do get a human and she's lovely.  It took 20 minutes total to get the extension and then finally I get a VOICEMAIL.  I left a message and went about my day.  I couldn't get cash, his card was dead and there was no need to go to the facility.  I phoned Kevin to explain who then phoned his brother, etc.  

I did my errands and walkies then returned home.  Two hours later, I phoned again and left another message.  One hour goes by and I phone again and leave another message.  Now I'm mad about the situation and the BofA

An hour and a half later, I realized they might be based in the Eastern Time Zone so I phoned AGAIN.  This time I got the actual human and again, totally lovely person. 

F-i-l had called the bank and reported fraud.  Over the DoorDash transactions.  That say DoorDash: Dennys or DoorDash: Sahara Pizza and that happen on FRIDAYS.  He also told them that he had "Been kicked out" and they said they didn't know what he meant but documented it.  

She asked if he was in Assisted Living and I explained he is in a Skilled Nursing Facility, has dementia and is 86 years old.  She says "We didn't have that noted. I have put a note in the file that he has dementia and if he calls again, it will not go any further."  Cue me frustrated with myself because the dementia therapist SAID TO DO THAT and I hadn't gotten to it yet.  Sigh.

They said give it an hour and everything will be reactivated.  LUCKILY, they didn't need to issue a new card.  But now I'm over it, I'm not leaving the house. I was in shock, then I was sad, and now I'm just hair on fire mad.  It's good that I stay home.

I phoned the assistant social worker to explain what happened.  I mentioned that the family vote is that he doesn't get to have his bank statements again.  She was Not down with that idea, mostly because that's where he is deriving his power and control and that would really upset him.  My counter to that was that I spent nearly the Entire Day being upset and fixing what he did.  

Oh, and also, that was kind of an official accusation that could have gotten ME into trouble.  

AND I took time off of work to deal with this.

I told her that I would bring the card and his monthly allowance down the next day.  

She stated that they don't want the full $103 but the family is not giving them the choice.  If we have to give his bank statements to him then they get to deal with $103 cash on hand.

THEN I texted the advocate and asked for one minute of her time.  She phoned almost immediately and asked for an update so I explained all of the above and she was horrified.  I shared that we are taking his debit card to him and some cash. Also that there was disagreement over the amount of money we should give him. She said that it has to be the full allowance or he's going to hyperfixate over where the rest of his money is. She said to plan to bring the $103 dollars every month and that SHE will help him budget/manage his money.  BET.

I explained that we were using DoorDash and what to do about that?  She - in the nicest, passive, Southern way possible - says that's for the facility to figure out.   So I cancelled his DoorDash account because OMG.  We weren't sure about that at first but it's connected to my phone and email so it was cancelled just based on the risk factor if nothing else.

I asked her if he had told her that she couldn't talk to us and she said no. I said "not yet" and she didn't disagree.  However, she said because of the Durable Power of Attorney, he doesn't have that right.  I shared that the facility was all "Well...." about it and she added that to her case notes.  She can touch base with the facility staff to clarify that issue.

Somewhere along the way, Kevin said he told his brother that the one person that got the brunt of this - Me - is the one who is working the hardest to fix this.  I explained that it has become my job to do this and it's me who is talking to the social worker, advocate, and dementia therapist so my information and attitude is different. Also, my education and experience in education and social services have been PUT TO USE.

 Then I realized that I'm back in my childhood dealing with an angry father but this time I have the TOOLS TO DEAL.  

I told Kevin that the mean girl part of me wants to just go slap the card and cash onto his table and state "We are NEVER talking about this again" but it would be futile and I would be "yelling" at a crazy person.  Also, he didn't tell US that he wanted his card and cash, he told the social worker and the advocate; so I'm not supposed to know any of that anyway.

One more detail that happened: F-i-l talks to his brother about once a week.  One of the boys phoned their uncle to let him know that their dad is in the dark place right now.  Uncle said that he would phone him then let the boys know what he said.  Later, he reported that when he asked "How's the kids?" Dad told him that he had screwed up and made us mad. But didn't elaborate or indicate any sort of plan to fix it, if you will.  

Now it's been 2 days and no changes.  Part of me thinks the negative attention he's getting for pissing off his kids, he thinks, is working for him.  

By giving him the card and cash, it gave him a reason to call and he didn't.  We did practice what to say if he phones to order dinner on Friday: "Dad, you have your card and all of your money. I cannot order dinner for you."  And that's all to be said.  I can't even say that DoorDash has been cancelled because you reported it. Sigh.

We cannot remember how this was resolved last time. I think someone just risked a visit and he was "fine." But now I'm wondering if he was fine or if we just hadn't triggered him.  I don't know, this is all speculation.

Then I thought of the movie quote from In & Out and laughed "Thank god my parents are dead because this would have killed them."  This would have shattered my mother-in-law.  I'm thankful she is missing this chapter.