On Tuesdays, We Rock

 Firstly: my dearest Swistle has full permission to skip this post as I imagine if she has to hear about this topic one more time, I fear she will run screaming into the abyss.  

I have become Liz in Shrinking, I fear.  

I was given a the rock tumbler for Christmas and I'm obsessing, like the proper nerd I am. What had happened was my Nephew drew my name and wasn't sure what to give.  My Niece came in clutch and chose a rock tumbler.  Nephew was Very Skeptical and relieved when he saw that I was so happy. SO HAPPY.

So, I started it like the 27th of December, we'll say.  It's run almost non-stop since then.  The other day I switched it around and it threw an error code.  I tried a few things then searched the interwebs. ZERO SHADE to the gift giver, but it turns out that this is a cheap tumbler.  (Again: ZERO SHADE because really it's a good thing because who knew if the alphabet brain was going to be satisfied after doing it once or twice)  

One of the suggestions I found was essentially "You can just wire around it" and I laughed.  "Cause of house fire: a sketchy wired rock tumbler".   Oh, and I have it in Monica's Closet.  Yeah, it's a little noisy but not as bad as one would think. Kevin said it sounded like running water, which he did not enjoy.

Kevin said to just go get another one at the hardware store and I dragged my feet.  It's only $70 (only, sigh) but I just couldn't do it.  So he called the store and there was only one in stock so he asked them to hold it.  Then he called me and said Go Get It Now.  So I stopped my Spring Break binge-watching and got it.  I am so neglected and abused by that man, LOL.

The new tumbler is not effing around.  It's more industrial and it has two barrels instead of one.  It's louder and accumulates heat so we moved it from my office out into the garden shed.  I started a new batch and had one batch that was on the last cycle.  On a whim, I tried the gift one and it started again.  Luckily, I had gone to Deception Pass the day before so I had another new batch of rocks. (this is adorable because, really: I always have a batch of rocks)

I started those then will switch it to the new one when the first cycle finishes.  Kevin mentioned that while it's good that it works again, it's probably not worth risking burning down the house. #buzzkill. See: "cause of fire"  

I'm having fun learning which rocks will polish and not polish, which rocks just reduce in size, and which ones come out REALLY GOOD.  Instead of trying to find rocks of a specific color or type, now I will search for ones that might polish.  Now instead of finding new trails to take Lucy walkies, I'm looking for places where I can find cool rocks.

This is what I've learned so far: green ones smooth and are pretty but don't shine.  Black ones significantly reduce in size and are pleasingly smooth.  White ones from the ocean turn out MAGICAL, smooth and round and shiny. And often agates that glow when you put light under them. Purple does shine and shows veins.  (this is the level of nerd I have become: veins, not lines)  I just started a batch of orange rocks and we'll see.

Right now, I have a tray of polished rocks on the table next to my chair because it's just so pleasing to look at them.  I will need to find a way to display the next batches though, or start giving them away.  But right now, they're My Precious.

While learning all about this, I realized that this has become one of those Healing Childhood Wounds.  Over the holidays, there were videos on the clock app about parents or grandparents receiving gifts of toys from their childhoods that they wanted and never received. (if you need a good cry, go watch) This is absolutely that.

  I have always collected rocks and have wanted a tumbler since I was a kid. Growing up on a lake and running through the woods, you always found treasures. I would often be disappointed when once dried, the rocks appearance changed and I knew a tumbler would fix that.  Alas, decades later, here we are.

The cycles run in about seven days per so now on Tuesday afternoons I can go play with my rocks.  I bought a specific strainer to rinse them, I use an old soup pot that I brought home from my parents house, and even have a scale that Kevin gave me to make sure I don't overload the new tumbler (like I probably did with the gift one).  There's a bin to keep all the supplies.  I have a system and am In It. 

There are rocks that can be cut in half to show agates and I have (so far) drawn the line at using power tools (probably)  Maybe once I get bored with this tumbler.  Like that's going to happen. Because, LOOK:

At Least the Pizza was Good

 Yesterday we travelled "east of the mountains" because our niece had her very first art showing.  She graduated with a fine arts degree a few years ago and she was a featured artist at the college she attended. She has sold commissions, but this was her first professional art showing.  Why her first showing wasn't local is a convoluted story not worth telling. (someone knew a guy who knew a guy)

Unfortunately, it was in a small town (population 19,000)  It's a university town and it has a famous rodeo.  When I searched for things to do in this town, there were like seven things.  Three of which were breweries and wine cellars and one was a local museum.

So, we took "the back roads" to get there before crossing over the main pass outside of Seattle.  We were in no hurry and it was a really nice trip over the mountains. 

At the top of the pass, we stopped to use the bathroom and get breakfast.  But we took one exit too soon and we ended up in a tourist trap, most of which wasn't open yet.  We impulsively decided on getting an overpriced breakfast sandwich and left.  Just to see the town we were supposed to stop in off the next exit.  Welcome to traveling with Surely and Kevin.

While we were waiting for said sandwich, I was looking at the display locomotive across the street and making Sheldon jokes when I noticed a sign in the window.  The Health Department rating for this particular establishment was a C.  As in: okay.  LITERALLY IT SAID "OKAY".  The next available rating was Above Average and the next was Excellent.  I thought it was a good sandwich, Kevin was meh about it.  Probably because I unwisely pointed out the "C" rating to him.

We get to this town two hours later, maybe, and there is a landmark that all truckers and farmers know.  Kevin LIT UP because he remembered seeing it when he rode with his dad to get hay when he was a child.  Pause:  Kevin's dad was a long-haul truck driver and bucked hay for YEARS.  Continue.

Now we are there about five hours too early and we can't check into the hotel until 3.  We found it anyway, on the main street, that is literally called Main Street and was satisfied with the location and appearance.  I had chosen a private, local hotel over a chain hotel on the outskirts of town.

I now refer to the Top Things to Do in Town.  There are few.

This region of the state is the only place in the whole world to find blue agates.  So, that was my goal. We went to the park on the list, which was riverside and looked for rocks.  While I went to the bathroom, Kevin spotted one in the river and went to get it.  He stayed dry but opened his finger on something.  He told me he said to himself  "Maybe I should have waited for Surely to come back or at least leave the car keys on the bank."  See, I'm not the only one in this house who makes questionable decisions searching for rocks.  And I think that first rock is indeed a blue agate.

Then we walked along the interpretive trail along the river where I learned about materials like pit run, gravel, sand, etc.  We talked about erosion and remediation. Kevin can do DEEP into this particular topic.   I was reminded of how it was when we went to the Grand Canyon. Fun fact: you don't take an excavation company pit boss to a canyon.  Color him: unimpressed.

We met a few dogs and had a nice walk in the SUN.  Mygosh, the SUN WAS OUT.  We were in t-shirts!!!  Kevin said that alone was worth the trip.

We started to return to town when we spotted a coffee stand.  We stopped and got a drink then found a place to eat lunch. We found a nice restaurant in the center of town, staffed with college kids.  It was clearly a locals hangout.  I don't know why but we were clearly marked as outsiders.  Maybe because we weren't wearing cowboys boots.

One of our favorite games is to overhear and interpret conversations. The winner being a guy ghosting a girl on a date when she went to the bathroom.  He paid the bill and peaced out. To be fair, she was on her phone the ENTIRE TIME.

Anyway.

There were two elderly gentleman having lunch and they were talking about farming and fishing and all the things you would expect.  Then a couple and a man sat across from us.  Kevin motioned with his eyes to peek and I thought "Oh, no.  It's a pastor."  He had a notebook and papers, dressed in a suit. It was obvious that they were meeting to go over something

Then Kevin heard something about a car and insurance.  But I heard something about an excavator so now I'm curious. Then Kevin flinched and did the ASL sign for crying.  I exclaimed "OH NO" significantly louder than I wanted to.

Meanwhile, Kevin is also watching a toddler eat mac and cheese with his dad.  His dad who is doing dad things and not paying attention.  Kevin reported that little man spilled a big spoonful of mac and cheese onto the seat.  Not to be wasteful, he scooped it up in this little fist and ate it.  Then shortly thereafter, ran said hand through his hair.  By the time they left, it was everywhere; including his sock monkey backpack.

But now I'm invested in the couple across from us.  It turns out that they had either lost their house or had it heavily damaged by what sounded like flooding, but man caused flooding.  

Then I learned that text message responses can be admissible in court.  Because the couple received a shrug emoji text in response to a question and the lawyer said "Between the emails and the texts, we should  be able to make a case with the judge."  

We had to leave so we didn't get to hear the rest of the situation but I'm still thinking about that poor couple.

Next, we drove down the street parallel to main street, which was literally just another main street.  All brick buildings in good repair, many store fronts closed and not much interesting.  We bumped into a grocery store, which was perfect timing because I had to GO.  And yes, Kevin asked why I didn't go at the restaurant and I don't have a good reason.

Now we have two hours still before we can go to the hotel. I looked at the list of Things to Do and found  one of the things was just a few blocks away.  It was a private home, decorated with thousands of bottle caps, reflectors, and other repurposed items.  The display notice said they've been working on it for over 45 years and had other artists help.  There was a twisted chimney with a mannequin head in it and it's a good thing I'm not a screamer because it scared the snot out of me. We walked around the block and saw all the things then returned to the car.  That took about twenty minutes.  

I searched for Antique stores and nothing. I searched for ice cream and nothing beyond fast food or grocery stores.  We have already crossed off the Travel for Ice Cream Adventure off of our list.

Again, there is nothing to do in this town and we had done most of what was listed:

#6 was the gallery opening. #1 and 2 were closed

We went to the hotel and figured out parking. It is a refurbished building and the parking is in the back of the hotel but not right behind it so it was kind of a thing.  Kevin thought we should just go in and see if there was a room ready or if the hotel had a suggestion of things to do.

Luckily our room was ready and there was really not anything else to do.  (even the girl at the coffee stand laughed uncomfortably and didn't have any suggestions when we asked)  We went to our room, unpacked and took a really good nap.  It was a relief to not have something to do, somewhere to go, someone to take care of.  I don't think either of us realize how tired we actually were. Mentally and physically.

We woke up in time to attend the opening.  We dressed up a little because we didn't know and got in the car.  Kevin said "I hope we don't lose our parking spot" because the lot had filled since we arrived.  He pulled out into the street, saw our family outside the gallery that we didn't notice was RIGHT THERE.  He pulled around the block and someone had ALREADY taken our spot.  We found another and laughed at the situation.  

We walked the whole block to the gallery and it was fun to say "We're here for the Niece's Name showing" and be shown to the gallery.  She does charcoal drawings and they're pretty amazing.  There were twenty hung around the room.  They had her full name as the artist, they were gallery priced and had a note card with her as the featured artist for attendees, and a posted bio.  It was quite the experience to see her in that element.

It was fun to watch which drawings people gravitate to.  We all had our favorites so it was an ongoing discussion.  We encouraged her and created ways to get her to interact with attendees, which I can't imagine how awkward one would feel doing.  Then we walked through the rest of the gallery/museum then left thirty minutes before closing.  

Kevin decided he wanted pizza for dinner, which is unlike him.  I will eat pizza every day but he's kind of whatever about it.  Where we live, there are a million Mexican and Thai places but not a really good pizza place.  So, we had a goal.  Kevin asked the gallery curator (who was wearing custom cowboy boots with her dress) where to go.  Turns out, it was walkable and right next to the grocery store we had been at earlier. 

Now it's Friday evening and the restaurant is full.  We could wait thirty minutes or we could eat outside.  The sun hadn't gone down yet so I'm all Let's Eat Outside.  I didn't do the math of the Restaurant is Full versus the time it would take to get our meal.  We were chilled by the time the food arrived but the pizza was SO GOOD.  I lamented that we found great pizza and it's over a doggone mountain pass to get to it.

We walked back to the hotel and CRASHED.  Kevin was asleep almost immediately but I was determined to relax a minute. I read two chapters of my book and realized This is Dumb, Go to SLEEP.  We woke up at 7:30 and was on the road at 8:00.  Originally we were going to return to the restaurant for breakfast but we were both not in the mood.  We went back to the only coffee stand in town then got onto the highway.

This time, we travelled the main thoroughfare the whole way.  Traffic was omgosh speeding and we made record time back to the green side of the state.  We stopped for breakfast at our regular place.  Yes, we have a regular place, we have gotten that old.  

The gallery is featuring Niece through May and she sold one painting after we left.  The curator seemed to think that selling more wasn't going to be a problem.  Now she's officially a professional artist and she can decide if she wants to pursue that more or return to doing commissions and for pleasure.

This was our Christmas gift a few years ago

Now we are home to a very happy dog and still have the weekend ahead of us.  We're glad we went and equally glad to be home.  And we don't feel the need to return to that town.  Everyone was nice, every place we went to was nice.  We just don't need to go back.  Except  maybe for pizza.

Please Stop Punching Me in the Face - A Raising Parent Story

 If the universe would just stop punching me in the face, I would be extremely grateful.

I had a work meeting this morning and was actually interested in it and had information to present.  I was even on time and everything. Then I got a call while I was eating my box breakfast and that was that.

My father-in-law had a doctor's appointment this morning and my sister-in-law took him. Because I had a meeting.

Until they sent him to the emergency room directly from the doctor's office. It had nothing to do with the appointment, that actually went better than expected.  The issue was he had a blood pressure episode.  It dropped to 52/49.  Yeah.

So I initially stayed at my meeting but as it began I thought "I'm power of attorney" and "I hope they remember to check/do/etc."  At which point I realized that I couldn't stay.  My sister-in-law is good with him but she doesn't have POA or his health info and, no shade, the ability to communicate with the hospital staff.

Sigh.

What started this appointment and field trip is that thef-i-l has cysts on his kidneys.  They're visible on his back so there was concern about all the bad things.  He's having back pain also, which  is still the broken back from nine months ago, being 86 years old and bedridden.

He got the all clear about the cysts, they're harmless, just annoying.  His kidney function is good so that's not a worry.  

They got him stabilized at the emergency department and there weren't any red flags.  We noticed that the swings between blood pressure readings were much wider than the last time we had monitored it. That is to be expected and it's a little jarring to watch in real time.  The top number ranges from 155+ to 70's.  The bottom number was more steady at a whopping 40-60 range

Let me back up a few steps: he has orthostatic blood pressure. This means it changes with body position and activity.  He's "fine" when sitting or laying but when he stands, it tanks.  There really is no predictability with this.  Also, it went from occasionally to what we learned is daily now.  Eventually it will trend downward and just not rebound.

Okay, so back to the present. They pumped him full of saline and monitored him and phoned his cardiologist.   One of her questions was Why is he still on all those medicines?  Which is a really good question.  This time last year the plan was to pare down his medicines because they were  no longer necessary when you're in the aging-out stage of life.  They weren't "fixing" anything anymore. She thought that could be helpful: taking him off a good bit of meds. Otherwise, he was "fine."

This information was lost in the transition from the hospital to the facility.  We didn't check - or even think  to check - because we assumed that it was happening.  He no longer goes to his doctors and seeing the actual doctor at the facility is near impossible.  As in, I don't know why they bother stating there's one on staff.

Now the urologist/nephrology has said he was fine and the cardiologist said he was fine.  The hospital said he was fine.  He just had an episode.  

And there was pouting.  Pouting because they didn't "fix" him and conversely: they wasted their time because "I just had an episode."  

Sigh.

I explained that his back hurt because he broke his back and chances are it is not healed. I left out the "it might not ever heal at your age" part.  That it was a good thing that his kidneys are fine and that all his tests came out fine. That nothing scary had been found.

Pouting.

Additionally to all of the above, he's been obsessing that his artery in his neck was plugged.  He said that the doctor who retired twenty years ago told him that it had to be fixed.  So I was very specific and clear with the emergency room doctor and she checked.  She said it was fine, which we knew it was, and then I made her repeat directly to him "You are FINE. It is FINE."

At one point he also had it in his head that his pacemaker needs replacing, which is news to all of us.  He got it the summer of 2019.  They tested it (again) and it's fine. We even watched it work in real time when his heart went into A-Fib.

Anyone else would be relieved that nothing was remarkably wrong.  But he was upset because they didn't fix him.  While we understand that it is not easy accepting that you're at a point of no return, literally, it is not our fault.

Then there's the I arrived at 10 am and left at 3:00 pm and he still wasn't discharged.  We left so that my sister-in-law could get her car and get something to eat then go back to the hospital.  They called me fifteen minutes later and was all "Umm, where did you go?"  He went from "we're discharging him, we'll be back with information in a bit" to Get Him Out of Here.   

I mentioned to the emergency room doctor that we need help with transportation.  When the nurse phoned, I asked her about that.  She had no idea and told me that the ambulance couldn't just "take him back"  *deep breath*  I explained that we stated we needed help with transportation and had used it before and the doctor said it wasn't a problem. 

Then she asks why we just can't take him home.

We will never know where I found the control and grace to not verbally remove her head from her shoulders.  Because somehow, I didn't.  I explained that he's 86 years old, in a facility, had just spent the day in the emergency room due to an episode, and jogging him out to the car AND THEN GETTING HIM BACK OUT didn't seem like a good plan.  

She reluctantly said she would look into it but that it wouldn't be paid for and I was all THAT'S FINE.  Then I phoned my s-i-l and she said she would just take him.  I think that's a bad idea but I'm not doing the work.  I called the facility and said "He's on his way, please make sure that someone is there to help" and they were all OF COURSE WE WILL, thanks for calling.  

Sigh.

Oh and when I asked the nurse how to reach her to tell her what the plan was, she balked. So, wait, let me understand: you give me a problem to solve, I offer alternatives then agree to work on her solution then when I am ready to give feedback and a plan, you don't want to talk to me.  I mean....

I get it, my sister-in-law was on her way and they could talk about it but that wasn't the point. I should have just stayed at the hospital until it was all resolved but I had been awake since 5, hadn't eaten or drank since 9, and I was over-stimulated.

Now the pretty bow on top of this is We will get to have the same conversation with the f-i-l for the next visits ad nauseum about how what's happening isn't fixable.  It's the cruelty of aging plus dementia.  As Kevin describes it: "He's with it just enough to make it miserable."

He has, by the way, let go of the anger and that we're the worst children that ever were children.  He has his moments and there are visits where I can feel it simmering just under the surface. We don't know if he's still speaking badly about us, we haven't asked.  His grandson spoke with him for the first time in months last week.  

Kevin had the idea of printing out the discharge papers and we can just refer to them when he asks again and again. It won't help but at least we'll feel like we've done something to help facilitate the memory process.  It didnot work with the bank statements but we can say that we tried.  It's stupid things like this that are relatively simple yet still exhausting to deal with.

So, that was today.

The update for everything else is:

I still have a job but administration is nervous.  The rest of it is still a dumpster fire in a hurricane.  We live in the dumbest timeline.

I had to have an emergency eye exam because my vision had changed.  I need the new lenses on my eyes cleaned with a laser and I was all "We can just wait for that..." because yikes.  But the doctor said that the eye disease I have is progressing.  Sigh.  I had noticed changes so I shouldn't have been surprised, yet I was.

Spring break is next week and I was looking forward to it but now just feeling anxious.  I started a huge work project and it needs completed before I go.  So, of course I didn't work today and I have Friday off.  Of course.  

There has been zero progress with my mother's estate.  Family is radio silent again.  We're waiting for the probate process.  And still no memorial.  It's literally like nothing happened.

But hey, everything else is "fine". Totally fine.  

Please stop punching me in the face, Universe.

Proving My Point...

 In my last post, I actually said that I wrote in a way to avoid being flagged.  EVEN WITH THAT, I got a spam comment about the pandemic.  Now You have a friend who...deals with spam comments on their social media.

It has been flagged and deleted.  My apologies to anyone who had to read that complete utter nonsense.

We live in the dumbest timeline.

I Have A Friend Who...

 In one way, I can't believe it's March and in another, I can't believe it's only March.  I've said this multiple times in the last two months: we are just living in the dumbest timeline.

I am never going to be able to understand how we, as a country, got here.  I can't conceive how Hate has won the day and seems to continue to win without abatement.

So, while the past two years have made it particularly difficult to get up and participate in life here in my world, it just keeps getting harder.  This is not a Raising Parents story.  This is a I Don't Know How to Exist in This World story.

My world is filled with people who have such opposite beliefs - or support such opposite beliefs - that it feels pretty isolating.  It feels crazy-making.  We have to reconcile "Well, they're good people and they've been your friend/family/coworker forever" with "But they support Hate and Greed."

People are fine - or happy even - with people losing their jobs. Losing their benefits.  Losing their autonomy.   Losing their right to everything they've worked hard for.

I have no solutions but here's what I'm going to offer to you:  you can say "I have a friend..."  In conversation, when the state of our world is the topic, you can say:

"I have a friend who works for a federal funded program that helps at-risk families and children.  It's existed for 60 years.  Every day she checks her email and the news to see if she still has a job.  The funding has been cut twice and restored, sort of. But there's another attempt on shutting the program down happening right now and they are determined to cut it."

"I have a friend whose father-in-law is on Medicare and Medicaid.  He's in a facility because the family couldn't care for him anymore and now he has dementia.  Funding to care for him is being threatened because "waste and fraud".  Meanwhile, we've been trying to get him a doctor's appointment for over a month.  Because the facility is understaffed and the medical community is overloaded, it will take another month for an appointment.  Not to mention that his television has been broken and that there's been staff turnover in the six months he's been there. Tell her about the waste and fraud."

"I have a friend whose husband has been planning to retire in two years.  Now the funding is being threatened and the economy is failing so he is putting that on hold.  He's been working since he's sixteen but people in our government feel like he should work until he dies instead."

"I have a friend who has LGBTQ+ family and friends.  They're terrified that the marriage will be annulled, that they're going to lose their child to suicide because of bullying and the lack of medical care. They live in a world full of hate after fighting so hard for equality."

"I have a friend who has nieces that are of child-bearing age.  Their lives are at risk if they become pregnant and there are complications.  Or universe forbid: something awful happens to them and they need medical intervention to undo the damage"  (apologies for the coding, we live in a world where certain words create issues for creators)  This brings me to...

"I have a friend who is a creator.  She's usually direct and funny and kind and creative.  But the world she lives in now wants to limit her words and her creations.  Because people are fragile because their antiquated ways are being demolished from society and they're frightened that they will have to live in a world where boys kiss and people of color can do anything they put their minds to."  And she's exhausted by every day there is a new assault on being a basic decent human being.

I am one friend that is being affected by all of the above.  Now extrapolate that out to every citizen. There is not a soul that isn't being affected by this and some of them are fine with it.

Now you can say "I have a friend..."  I'll be that friend for you.  Not everyone lives in a place of diversity and can say these things honestly. Yet they still believe in equality and human rights and dignity.  Now you can say "I have a friend who..." and it will be true.

We used to say "Stay Safe" because of the pandemic.  Now I say it because this is the world we live in now.  Stay safe, friends.

  

I Need to Unsubscribe

 Even though it looks like we may be staying put here in this house, I have continued to browse the realty emails.   

The other morning a house was listed that is in my dream neighborhood.  It's on the bay and there's a state park and county park nearby.  It just seems to be a nice place to live.

I clicked through and it wasn't on the water, and didn't even have a view really. But the property itself was on the larger side so I looked at the details.  Age of the home was 90 years, which is old for this area (I know, East Coasters: that is adorable lol)  It was a one owner home so it's been in the same family.  

The photos showed probably what you imagined.  Paneling on the walls, old linoleum, small rooms. Clearly an older persons home.

Curiosity satisfied, I moved on and didn't really think about it again.

Yesterday, I need to "touch grass" as the interwebs say.  I took Lucy to the state park, the one mentioned above.  After snow then a big rain and wind storm, it was unseasonably warm and lovely. We had nice walkies in the sun then headed into town to pick up groceries.

I knew approximately where that 90-year-old house was so I kept an eye out for it.  I spotted it and thought "Oh, it's been painted".  Then I noticed an elderly gentleman, sitting on some stairs and looking over the neighborhood.  There was another older gentleman standing next to him.

"Oh, that's probably the owner" I thought.  "I wonder if that was his brother? son?"

Then it hit me.  That's Probably The Owner.  Sitting outside of his house that's no longer his and enjoying the sun for perhaps the last time.

I'M NOT CRYING, YOU'RE CRYING.

I think I need to stop looking at houses on the interwebs.  I'm getting too invested.

Tilt Shift House

Every few years, we entertain the idea of moving.  Specifically, once Kevin retires One of considerations is that we don't believe we can age in place here. The rural setting, the weather, the lack of resources/support for the elderly are all reasons to consider alternatives. We won't have children or grandchildren - or living next door - to provide support like the parents did.  

The other is that every year we have three inches of snow outside that refuses to melt and also it feels like it rains 300 days yearly.  Yesterday was an earthquake.  (there is an inactive volcano less than an hour away)

The difference this time with our pondering is that we've been actually snooping online at possible places.  The search has been as close as  the nearby towns and as far away as the other coast.   

We trended toward finding properties that are like ours.  But we don't want to live in  town, per se. We want to just be close to town.  So, kinda just like where we are but not as rural. Also, I realized that I wanted to be near the water; meaning staying close to the coast and not moving into the mountains. Being on a lake would be nice but again: unlikely because that would be rural.

I have learned that there is nothing that makes you appreciate your house more than house shopping.  Unless, of course, you're moving because you hate your house.  Example: find a house, browse the photos only to discover "Oh, we'd have to redo the bathroom" because it's visually old/worn or "Everything needs painting, new carpet, etc.".  However, I've found that I've said "I can live with that" to most kitchens because that space is rarely a priority for me.

This process brought the dawning realization that we're older now and don't necessarily have the energy or want to rehab a house like we did when we were younger. Sure, we can hire out the repairs, rehab, painting but one of the other intentions is to tuck some of the money away from selling this house into savings.  

Also, I learned to don't get caught in the photos that realtors post. Not only are rooms photographed to look bigger and brighter, the neighborhood isn't included.  Click "Street View" if its available or google the address.  So many times I've clicked  through to street view to be all "NOPE".  Sketchy neighborhoods but nice house, or too near a road or in one case: literally next to a freeway onramp and/or no yard at all, front or back.

I will never pay HOA fees or live in a neighborhood with covenants.  Not only is it expensive, if I want to paint my house orange with purple polka dots, I'm going to.

Because when you search for anything anymore, websites want you to sign up for their email, add notifications, etc.  I am always a Hard Pass for those but I allowed one site to send emails. I will browse through the photos then hit delete because this is just a dream at this point. BUT ALSO, because you never know what you might find.

And....this is where I went down the rabbit hole.

Yesterday, I was flipping past one of those emails when a house caught my attention. It was nothing fancy, in fact it needed exterior paint and yardwork.  Normally I would scroll right past it. But something was nudging me to look further.

Upon further inspection, I discovered that it's our house, just in another state.  It's the same floor plan inside, a year newer, yet was slightly different. It was like seeing our house at tilt-shift or in a dream.  It was the same, yet similar, if that makes sense.

I found myself obsessing over this house.  It became a Spot the Difference game. 

The outside was different - more low-key and as I mentioned, in need of paint. It was the primary blue that everyone used a few years ago with just plain white trim.  It was in a suburban area with a big backyard that is similar to ours but in need of landscaping and maintenance.  These are the main reasons that I initially skimmed past the initial photo.

After viewing all of these photos and sending a link to Kevin, I began to create a whole backstory. It looks like an elderly couple lived there and perhaps the man aged out and now the woman has. Clues being: tools, truck in the garage, lawn equipment in the shop but only women's clothing in the half-full closet.  The house has been staged with what looks like leftover furniture from them but no personal touches.

The first photo after exterior photos is the one that made me pause. It was disorienting, seeing the living room. It was what first made me realize that This is Our House.  Now, the furniture is different of course but the paint is the color my kitchen is painted.

It has the same pony wall on the left, I hate it and

Similar color schemes with furniture and the lampshades are similar; but this could also be staging.  The big difference here is they have a larger window, which I wanted but we compromised on other things.  Ceiling fan is indicative of a different climate, but now I want one. 

The dining area is different than ours and it took a literal day for me to figure it out.  The main window is smaller in the sale house and there isn't a side window.  They have a small dining table and all of that combined makes the space look bigger than it is. We have the fancy beveled glass entry door, one of the concessions that were made.

This is one of the big example of realtors using angles and wide lens
to make the space look larger than it is.

Then I scrolled to the kitchen photos.  This is where I really was incredulous.

The cabinetry is similar, the floor is the old flooring that we replaced.  The appliances look like the original appliances.  We have a big island and theirs seems like an afterthought.  They have pot lights and we have pendants.  

This kitchen has a desk where a counter is in our kitchen and that caught my attention. I've contemplated taking those cupboards out and replacing with an antique buffet or Hoosier cabinet.  Now I'm not sure about that idea; I think it would stand out too much.  

Mystery: I have no idea what that open space to the left of the stove would have been. The only thing I can think of is garbage bins or a wine cooler.  

Yes, I have done a deep dive investigation comparison of this house.  I said I was obsessing.

The hallway is the same, although theirs is bare and boring without artwork or family photos but I think I glanced a wall sconce while we have a lamp and overhead lighting. 

The common folk bathroom is nearly the same, we changed the mirror and the flooring. 

The mudroom/laundry room is the same. They even had the same issue with not being able to push the dryer back because of the floor vent.  I would describe those rooms as what our house looked like when we moved into it.

The spare bedroom in the other house is actually set up as a bedroom.  The only regret we have for this house is not having a third bedroom or den space. Seeing the room made up as a bedroom makes me wonder if we'll change it when we're both not working.  But probably not this color:

The primary bedroom is like the kitchen in the way that it is painted a similar color. They have a mirror on the wall, which is practical and I would hate it.  Their closet is boring white while ours is pumpkin orange. 

The primary bathroom is very different. They chose the common, less expensive
floorplan while we chose the deluxe floor plan. Thus the compromises that we spoke about earlier.   

One sink versus two sinks, which we now know is a waste. 

We have a garden tub and windows while they have a bath/shower. 

 There is a linen closet with a regular door in their bathroom located where Kevin's shower-that-I-hate is located. We have two nice cupboards instead.

(I hate that wall so much)

We redid the floor, mirrors, and the overhead light
The light bar is next because the 80's called and they miss their lights

My dislike for that shower is great. But he loves it. *shrug*

One of the things I noticed between the two houses overall is the little details: we changed out all the drawer and cupboard pulls and plain white plastic light switches.  Our mudroom is decorated and not utilitarian. We have curtains, shades, and sheer panels because it gets cold here.  Mostly though, ours is clearly lived in and not tidied for sale.  

This experience has shown me perhaps what it is like to be conscious during a dream.  Everything is similar, just a little bit changed.

It has also shown me that shopping for houses is fun if you've never done it before or if you have the money to upgrade in your area..  If we wanted to move deep south, we could have an incredible house, much more than we would ever need.  I think that would be my only shot to ever have a swimming pool though.

Anyway, I had to share this surreal experience. It was just too odd to not acknowledge.

Wanna Be Frustrated? Let's Play A Game!

 I am a little bored and a lot frustrated; for a variety of reasons and not just because the US is on fire.

I decided that I needed a distraction.  I chose a game I usually play around Thanksgiving, thanks to Ross Geller.  Click here if you have no idea what I'm talking about: States Game

Name all 50 states. That's it, that's the game.  Sounds simple, perhaps. I invite you to try.

I have a system, starting with:

The region where I live.  

Then I go down the coast until I run out states.

Now return upward to the next region, until I run out of states.

I am not so much good with the midwest/rust belt part of our nation so it starts to fall apart there.

Then I do the Deep South...and invariably miss one. (Tennessee, this time)

Then the Eastern Seaboard.

Now at this point I'm grasping at anything.  

I tried to name the 13 Colonies and am embarrassed to admit that I named eight.  I even tried thinking of Hamilton lyrics...and that's how I got New Jersey.  I always forget the southern colonies, for some reason.  

Now, using the alphabet brain superpowers, I named the states that begin with vowels.  That stalled out pretty quickly.

Hilariously - to me - I realized that I had forgotten TEXAS.

Okay, okay, I can do this.  SPORTSBALL TEAMS.  Nope, not a single one.

Next tactic: going alphabetically.  This got me Wisconsin and Vermont because Alphabet Brain started at  Z

Now I'm missing two.  Last time it was Michigan and I suspect one of the two forgotten during the last attempt and it didn't stick in my brain.

MISSISSIPPI

I tried  remembering Capitals and that was ADORABLE.

I've gone through categories: coasts, vowels, size, Colonies, regions, Places I have Been, Places where I know people....

And that gave me: KENTUCKY.  

Then I stalled out, I was at the point of no return.  I found the youtube clip for this post and watched it, wondering/hoping they would name a state I missed.  Nope.

I tried one last attempt: Canadian Border States, because I had a suspicion that was the region I was missing.  I could nearly imagine it clearly but it wouldn't come forward. GAH.

Finally after about 30 minutes, I gave up. The game in the episode is timed at like six minutes and that's impossible. It's one of those games that really, if you don't get it right away, you're not going to get it.

MINNESOTA

Tuna - This Caught On...

 Okay, so what I considered a throw-away post intended to rinse out recent bad news actually caught (ha! unintended pun!) some interest.

I realized that I left out a very important component of making tuna sandwiches:

Condiments.

This, I suspect, is where it really gets interesting in this discussion.  "Interesting" being a stronger word than one would suspect in a discussion about tuna sandwiches but this is the world we live in right now.

As I mentioned, wheat bread is the go-to here.  However, whole grain is my favorite.  I've tried sourdough and it was too many flavors.  I haven't had white bread since the 1900's.

Years ago my sister made me a tuna sandwich with pita bread and as Swistle mentioned: celery.  I STILL think about that sandwich.  Do I ever remember to add pita and celery to the shopping list? don't be silly, of course not.

So, we already talked about mayonnaise.  Kevin wants lightly spread mayo on each piece of bread.  It's too much, I'm just saying.

Mayo is Not my favorite and I'm allergic in large doses. I substitute it with - bear with me - ranch instead of mayo.  Only on one slice and it's barely noticeable.  Swistle mentions that she mixes mustard into the tuna but Kevin would pack my bags if I did that. However, I do like it and use it on one slice instead and I can't believe I forgot to mention that very important detail.

Also, GiGi mentioned her husband using olive oil and I'm going to consider that as a mayo alternative.

Subtopic: a friend I used to know put mustard on grilled cheese.  It is surprisingly good.  We're not talking about using mayo instead of butter on grilled cheese. I said: we're not talking about it.

I am curious about making it a little spicier and will try that when I next make it for myself.  This is one of those things that one doesn't think of trying until some weird chick writes on the internet about tuna sandwiches and then we crowd-source ideas and recipes.

Then while thinking about this post and the comments, I remembered a childhood friend who put potato chips on her sandwich.  Like, take the top slice of bread off, add a layer of potato chips then replace the bread.  Too much texture for me, for sure.  (like the big chunks of tuna...nope, sorry NGS. lol)

Finally, can we all agree that lettuce does not belong on a tuna sandwich?

Trouble at the Adventure Park

 At this point of life, I should really not leave the house.  It's been long enough since the pandemic that I could probably be clinically labeled feral.  Or incorrigible.  Definitely a hermit.

So of course we went to youngest nephew's birthday party on Sunday.  At a trampoline park.  With the whole family. And people.

I don't see a single thing that could go wrong.

Kevin and I hung out with the grownups at the tables for a bit then ventured into the park part of the place.  Absolute chaos as children from toddlers to teens are bouncing, flipping, running, jumping, falling, and gymnasticing.  

We found our "kids", a group of grade-school boys, a few teens, and grown Nephew in the mix.  They were playing tag and showing off and having a great time.  We found a place to stand where we could see most of the place and not get knocked over by flying bodies.

The big guys were playing on a rope swing with a one story drop.  In the middle of this, there was a little girl - maybe about 8 yrs. old.  We cautioned her to watch for the big boys and she complied.  Then the boys ran off to something else and I wasn't turned that way anymore.

Something caught my attention and I watched as this other girl, about the same age but taller, marches over and gets right in the face of the tiny girl.  My senses heightened so I tuned into what was happening.  I saw/heard the little one say "No, I didn't." and the new girl - who now has animated gestures - claimed that she did something.  

The mean girl continued and the little one hesitantly but bravely stuck out her tongue to her.   Inwardly I giggled and thought "Well, that's still a thing, after all these years."  "And that's not going to end it."

Then the mean girl gets really close to her face and says "I will beat you up. You don't mess with my brother. I will find you and..."

My inner teacher came out in a loud "HEY!"  Kevin startled and turned, thinking something was wrong with our kids.  There were two girls with the mean girl and I peripherally noticed they had stepped aside. The mean girl continued so I stepped around Kevin and stood in their proximity.  "Walk Away" I said in my stern teacher voice, while making direct eye contact with the mean girl.  She kind of sized me up and I cocked my head at her.  "WALK. AWAY."   Her eyes widened and she scrambled down and ran off somewhere.  I nodded at the little one and returned next to Kevin.

The little girl sat for a minute and one of the other two girls  had remained.  It sounded like there was an attempt at reconciliation - as we girls tend to do - but the little one shrugged and continued to play.  I was actually kind of proud of her, she didn't waver. She didn't cry or run away.  She stood her ground, even after an adult intervened.

Then Kevin wanted to know what happened and I explained.  He was surprised because he  thinks of little girls as little princesses and I just can't with that.  A few minutes later, a woman approached the little girl and they were talking.  It didn't feel punitive and she clearly knew who it was; but I stayed where I was.  Then one of our kids wanted our attention so we moved.  As we did so,  the woman turned away, helped the little girl down and then looked at me in my eyes. And smiled.  I just smiled back and nodded at her then we both  continued onto the next thing.  

Ten minutes later maybe, Kevin pointed out that the mean girl was now playing by herself.  AND giving me the stink eye.  I just laughed because that just underscored what kind of kiddo this was.  I looked around for her friends and they had returned to where the little girl had been playing.  Clearly, there had been an issue amongst them now, as well.

I told Kevin that we  should move to a different spot so the girl could save face and return to playing with her friends.  Kevin said something like "She doesn't deserve friends..." and I laughed then moved away anyway.  "She just got embarrassed by a grown up for acting a fool.  Let her try playing with her friends again."

Now Kevin is invested so he's subtly watching.  At one point, he says "Uh oh, I think she's telling her dad on you." because now we were where her grown-up could see us.  Kevin was a little concerned about a confrontation but I wasn't.  "I would invite the mean girl to explain to her grown-up how she was in a smaller child's physical space and threatened violence. I'm certain that would probably end it."  

We watched as the mean girl is animatedly telling the grown-up something and gesturing in our general direction.  The grown up was unconcerned.  I mentioned to Kevin that I imagine the grown up either said "You deserve having a stranger tell you to walk away if you were being inappropriate" or they knew they were raising a mean girl and were unsurprised.  I really didn't have a read on it, either way.

Then Kevin was hit in the back with a ball pit ball.  He turned around like what the hell in a puzzled way and it appeared to be a tiny one had thrown it.  He laughed and said to me "I thought it was the mean girl trying to hit you."

Minutes later, we decided that we had met our fun limit and headed back to the tables.  There was a ball in the pathway and I stopped to get it.  Kevin was faster than me and gently kicked it into the ball pit.

AND HITS A TINY LITTLE GIRL IN THE NOSE.

I admit, I'm going to hell because I just started laughing.  Kevin was HORRIFIED and I really thought he was going to crawl his six-foot body into the ball pit to apologize.  The baby was unconcerned and the mama laughed it off.  Then Kevin realized it was the tiny little human who had thrown the ball at him earlier and we all had a good laugh.

We returned to the family at the table after buying ice cream.  Kevin's brother asked if we had a good time and I said "Kevin kicked a ball at a baby's face..."  So of course, he had to explain what happened. Then he follows up with "Surely yelled at a child."

I think we should just stay home for a while. We clearly should not be around people.

Let's Talk Tuna

 Okay, rolling of shoulders and clapping of hands.  Let's talk about something other than dementia, dead parents and all of that. I used to be fun.  Sigh.

We'll start with some controversy: I make Kevin's lunch every day.  I know, how mid-century housewife of me, right?

I've always done it and it's how most of our families do it.  There are days that I just want to hand him $10 and be done, for sure.  But if I did that, we'd be poor.  If I left him to his own devices, he would have cheese and crackers and grapes every day.

Also, and I have found this to be true, he says "It tastes better when someone else makes it."

Since Graves Disease and two bouts of COVID, he doesn't eat much anymore.  But I worked with young children for so many years that his lunch box looks like a toddler filled it.  Grapes, chips, crackers, luna bars, the occasional cookie. 

His current fixation meal is tuna sandwiches.  It was turkey deli sandwiches before that.   I had gotten to the point of hating making turkey deli sandwiches when he switched.  Now I'm starting to loathe tuna.

Anyway, he eats a half-sandwich every day.  Sometimes if he's called away or just doesn't want a packed lunch, he will share with his crew.  For instance, there's always an extra half on Friday.  He leaves it for his Saturday guy and  it doesn't go to waste.  Or he'll offer it to the office girl whose pregnant with her first baby.

Kevin has mentioned that "everyone" says how good the sandwiches are, which is nice but it's just a simple tuna sandwich.  How difficult can it be?

Not everyone  has been shown how to make a tuna sandwich.  It's just one of the things that my mom showed me as it seems like tuna sandwiches were her love language.  

Well, it occurred to me that while I was taught how to make these, I don't make them like that anymore.  They have evolved, if you will.  Not to Top Chef level because c'mon, it's me.  I'm out if a recipe states "crush the garlic clove" or "carmelize the onions"

So, here's how I do it:

• Canned tuna in water.  I can't with the plastic containers, so much waste and more crap in landfills.
• Drain and break apart with a fork.  I hate, hate, hate big chunks of tuna.  
• Dice up dill hamburger-style pickles.  My mom used relish...or, are you ready?  Sandwich spread. *hork*  (if you don't know what that is, click here)    **This part makes me...forgive the pun...stabby but it reduces sugar and tastes better than relish)**
• Mix the pickles with the tuna.  I tend to do more rather than less.
• I'm not picky about mayonnaise. But I try to do less rather  than more. Over mayo'd tuna is gross.
•  I mix into the mayonnaise: onion flakes, black pepper, and a little bit of celery salt.
• Mix it all together.  Add more mayo if you think it needs it.  However, like  spaghetti is better the next day, so it tuna.  Be cautious.

We use wheat bread only.  Kevin's adverse to whole-grain.  We've also used whole wheat deli buns but those are getting difficult to find.  (and that's a lot of bread but he'd only eat half)

Now it's over to you.  Everyone seems to make tuna sandwiches differently.  What's your go-to recipe?

It Happened at Dennys - A Raising Parents Update

  So...sigh...everything is worse.  As assumed and predicted: worse.  Everyone is still in a time-out and big changes are afoot.  I'm still in the world-is-is-turning-too-fast-stage so this will most likely be jumbled.

When last we left this story, my father-in-law was angry with us about everything and directing the facility staff to keep his secrets.  We were hurt, angry, and frustrated with not only being accused of stealing money and lying but also the secret keeping supported by the staff.

There were two more attempts made at reconciliation, the brother-in-law went alone and the boys went together - more on that in a minute. We now know this is really bad and not just a spiral. 

In the meanwhile, I dropped off a folder with his demanded financial paperwork at the front desk.  As a reward to the facility, f-i-l is bothering EVERYONE with said folder of paperwork.  I mean, EVERYONE.  The receptionist, the nurses, the social worker, and now the finance person.  To the point that she phoned me with a professional WTF is happening.

Because as we predicted would happen has happened: he has no idea what any of it means. I apologized for inflicting that on everyone but we  gave him control of his information, like he asked and HERE WE ARE.  She said it happens, which isn't as soothing as I think they think it is.

The social worker has been less than helpful in this situation.  She's been out more than at work over the past two weeks and I wanted to go to her supervisor with the keeping secrets issue and now lack of support.  Kevin is hesitant because he doesn't want to damage the relationships nor become the family that cries wolf.  (note takers: add that to your list of concerns)

BUT, the finance person took that out of my hands for me.  She said that she had to report that the f-i-l is approaching everyone and asking for help, despite everyone explaining it to him.  She asked permission as to what level of information to share and I said ALL OF IT.  

I explained that at first we thought it was an obsessive spiral, which he was prone to in his old life, but now clearly it's something else.  I indicated that we didn't necessarily feel supported in determining what is actually happening.  As in, he had a UTI but now the dementia seems at the forefront and it's just....happening. No "We'll do some testing" or "We'll check his blood for any issues" or "This is how you handle this situation".

I mentioned that in his old life, he had a tendency to visit or make up issues in order to go visit "his friends" at the insurance office, bank, doctor, etc.  She laughed but with a little bit of dawning recognition. This gave the opportunity to explain that we just can't tell what's old behavior, new behavior, or BOTH and have felt stranded in the situation.

 I told her that we had taken a break from visiting and she WHOLE-HEARTEDLY agreed.  So, that was two people who have guided us in that direction and that's a relief in an awful way.

Last weekend the boys went to visit to see if there was a way forward.  There wasn't.  He could NOT let it go.  He was pissy as soon as they walked in the room. Kevin said it was worse than any of the times before. They both left thinking they probably wouldn't be returning. 

Kevin described it as he is just living in a whole different reality than ours; yet there would be glimmers of recognition or connection.  In my busy little alphabet brain, I related this to the Friends episode where Phoebe is trying to teach Joey French.  (click here)

On Monday, Kevin had phoned the social worker to let her know all that had transpired, that we wouldn't be visiting and basically "Good luck with that". AND THEN his dad phoned each of us and apologized for his actions on Tuesday.  It was very odd and we wondered what precipitated it happening. We wondered if they had met with him or adjusted his meds or what.  

Later that day, the facility scheduled a meeting with the family regarding the situation for the next day. I had a feeling that this was ending badly but kept it to myself. Indeed, it got worse.  

As you have probably imagined, he is considered in full dementia now.  We went from forgetful and inconsistently unable to track time to straight up, no holds barred, dementia in about two months.  And it's not the "fun" What time is dinner? eleventy times a day but the angry, paranoid version.

We met with the social worker, the executive director and his favorite nurse and they are all in agreement. He's being moved to a memory care facility, the one I toured in the Fall.  They will take care of everything once we sign off and it will most likely be against his will. However, they needed our permission to proceed; even though it wasn't presented as a choice.

Yeah.

Moving forward, the facility said:

Do not visit - or if we do - it has to be early in the morning but know that we may need to just excuse ourselves if he's in a mood.  And it's likely he'll be in a mood.

They gave us "permission" to screen our calls.  She explained that the outcome isn't worth the risk.

They said the window for him being in a "good" mood is very small and inconsistent.

They will tell him about the move.  We don't have to.  That's recommended and a relief.

They're going to tell him that they don't have room for him (true) and that he's too healthy to be there (not true)

He will most likely not agree and that's "fine".  He no longer has a choice.

So that was enlightening, in the worst way.  I mean, we knew but we didn't know that he had crossed the Not Returning threshold.  

Kevin was able to verbally throw an elbow about the "keeping secrets" issue. Sharing that he told the boys he kept secrets from THEM because he can't trust them.   They really didn't have a response  and we knew they wouldn't. But it did seem to register some surprise.  

I mean, not that it would have changed the outcome but if  they hadn't agreed to secrets, we would have had a month...more? to wrap our minds around this and maybe not have had this past two week time-out and try to educate ourselves.  So while the care he received was good and kind, they dropped the ball on this particular thing.  We trusted them to guide us through as We Haven't Done This Before; as we've told them multiple times.  "Help us do this, we haven't done this before and you have."

Now the director for the memory care place reached out to me and said she would call me to start arrangements yesterday. She didn't so that doesn't sit well with me but really, that's on par for this situation.  I'm sure she'll call today but STILL. The process could be no longer than a month and could be just days.  

Once we approve and complete the paperwork, we'll just get a call that he's moved. They'll let us know whether or not we should come visit or leave him be.  It could very well result in a Leave Him Be and we have to get cozy with that.

It's like the trip to Denny's was the last time we really saw him, in actual reality.  If that's not illustrative of this whole situation, nothing is. lolsigh.

Everyone is in a Time Out - Raising Parent Edition

 Okay, with everything in this world ACTUALLY on fire, I've not revisited or updated the situation with my father-in-law.  Let's just say it's been a lot.  Apologies in advance, this is novella in length.

We are currently one week into a two-week time-out from my father-in-law.  What happened, you're wondering.  Well, we are wondering a little bit too.

To tell this story, I have to go back to the late Fall.  The last we spoke of  this, we were considering transferring my f-i-l to another facility.  It was supposed to be better suited for him and we were momentarily excited yet concerned.

He was evaluated and invited to move to that facility.  When the offer was made to him by the Medicaid staff, he declined.  He was happy where he was and didn't want to change.  While that was absolutely fine with us, it wasn't as fine with the current and potential facility but that is a whole other story.  (I think they were trying to fill quotas and felt "duped" when we didn't make him transfer)  I told them both that "He's had a LOT of change over the past year, he gets to choose."

So...that's late October?  Yes, I just checked my actual notes.

We girded up for the Holidays.  This would be the first that he was in a facility and the second without my mother-in-law.  This is what we did to try and ease through those two months:

• We visited and took him clam chowder and burgers once a week during the those months
• We decorated his room for the holidays 
• The four of us spent two hours with him on Thanksgiving, with a homemade meal
• Christmas Eve we spent two hours with him with another homemade meal.  AND PRESENTS
• Three days after Christmas we rode with him on public transportation to brunch/lunch/early dinner AND paid $85 for an absolute sh*t meal
• Sister-in-law has been taking him Christmas cookies since Thanksgiving.  AND ALSO FOR THE NURSES

Imagine our surprise right after the New Year, Kevin discovered - when he asked the nurse a question -  that Kevin needed to go talk with his dad again; because he has been very concerned about his money. But she can't get into specifics because he swore her to secrecy.  And was asked to not speak with US, specifically.  

Reluctantly he was finally told by the nurse - and later the social worker - that his dad doesn't trust us and wants control of his finances back. The staff couldn't tell us anything specific beyond that because again, he swore them to mther-effing secrecy AND THEY AGREED.

Kevin let the staff have it in a direct and firm way, not yelling, "He's your problem now" and expressed displeasure with Keeping Secrets from the Family like it's a game and dismissing that we have durable power of attorney.  

His dad has occasionally fussed that he can't have his wallet at the facility because it's against the rules.  The facility doesn't want any personal paperwork, etc. there that they may be liable for if something happened.

He has also fussed that he wanted his bank statements.  We (I) have provided them, once was a print out from the website and they are all redacted statements. The delivery of said statements apparently was not done quickly enough, as in "I keep asking for these and no one will bring them to me" with a shake of his fist, clutching the statement that was just brought to him.  Oh, and he didn't like the printed from the site statements.  Excuse me, your highness.

Two separate, yet related things:  

He will say, in justification, when asked why he needs the statements SO BADLY, he will answer "It's all that I've got!" which is heart-warming to the four adults who have been caring for him for the past two years.  

We will slow roll requests sometimes - like the statements - because we are trying to curb demanding behavior and expectations that we'll all just drop what we're doing because he "needs" something. (i.e. cookies or snacks)

Continuing...

When he asked Kevin last, Kevin told him that as soon as the statement arrives, he will bring it down.  IRONICALLY, he had one for him THAT NIGHT; not knowing he was getting ambushed.  Although it did provide a prop to say WTAF to him.

Keep in mind that his dad doesn't understand ANY OF IT.  Yet will argue with you about it like it's a life or death situation.  As in "They give me $1 for an allowance."  "No, it's $103.20 allowance, monthly"  "NO, SHE SAID IT's $1"  That kind of nonsense.  He argued that his Medicare goes directly to the facility, Kevin said no, it goes into your account and Surely pays the facility."  "NO SHE SAID THAT EVERYTHING GOES HERE".    We are already well-attuned to steering out of this particular skid.

The crux of his current issue is that he suspects - or believes, depending on who you're talking to -that we are spending his money.  To be clear, as soon as we hit the spend-down threshold for Medicaid, we stopped using his card.  Everything he has needed or asked for has been paid by US. But it was implied by the social worker that he thinks we're using his money for our personal use.  Hundreds of dollars we've spent of our own money (and we pay for his cell phone)  AND this is not throwing shade at the siblings, they provide as well; just differently.

Because of the Power of Attorney, the facility has to ask our permission for everything.  This is as simple as trimming his nails to as important as changing his meds.  We have always said yes to anything he's asked or they have offered. We have provided everything in our power that he needs.

Perfectly timed example: he decided he wanted to go to Dennys.  The facility told him that he couldn't go alone and that he needed a chaperone.  The nurse phoned Kevin at work and he set it up when he went for a visit that same day.  We took half of Saturday to take him to Dennys. Met him at the facility, the bus picked us up, etc.  He was fine, happy even.  

Fast forward five days and he's furious.  He has it in his head that he can have his wallet and go anywhere he wants to because they said he could and they have a bus.  Kevin spoke with the nurse (his favorite one) and she said that he CAN have his debit card but not his wallet and she said he could go on the bus. (she was wrong about this part. Thanks for that.)  

Returning to the original conversation between Kevin and his dad.  You can imagine that the conversation did not go well.  Kevin was good by first asking "Is there something you want to talk about?"  He was met with the shruggy, petulant "I don't know..." If it were me, I would have said "Fine, I'm going home then. I'm not playing this game"  But Kevin said "Clearly you have something on your mind and they said to come ask you so what is it?"

In response, the f-il lost his temper about the debit card and the shopping and we won't let him do anything and wants to know where all his money has gone, etc.

Kevin explained for the eleventieth time that he can't have his wallet there, that we brought him the bank statement ("Not when I ASKED, I KEEP ASKING" was his response. If you just thought "You said that already..." YES, that is the point I wish to make.  It's relentless sometimes)  it's the fact that he doesn't remember/understand AND the fact that he's a total d*ck about it.  

Kevin left in a "Whatever, bye Felicia" kind of way and left it at that.  He phoned his brother and yelled to him about the situation for the entire 20 minute drive home.  His brother was sympathetic and empathetic and horrified.  He said he would go see him and take him the debit card. Kevin said he's done for right now with going out of his way to visit, take him dinner, and try to make him as comfortable as possible. 

But wait, it gets WORSE.

The very NEXT NIGHT we had dinner at the godforsaken buffet for Nephew's birthday.  We were already seated when Niece and Nephew arrived.  They sat down and said they'd been to see Kevin's dad and boy, is he mad about the money and the bank statements, etc.  Nephew said he just wouldn't stop.   Because they didn't have context, they laughed it off as venting.  I said "Well, that's been a thing and it's been really bad."  

Kevin just went quiet.  He didn't hardly speak for the remainder of dinner.  Nephew also said that f-il was really happy about going to Dennys.  Kevin replied "Well that isn't happening any f-ing time soon"  (way to bring the mood down.  lolsigh)   The siblings heard this as well and were equally horrified and frustrated.

The next morning Kevin's dad phoned me and I didn't answer. I never miss a call from him, on purpose. He didn't leave a message nor did he call Kevin.  He also has not called the siblings.  Chances are he needs something.  Or he's asking about laundry because we told the social worker that we (I) would no longer be doing his laundry.

AND THEN IT GOT EVEN WORSE:

The brother went and indeed let their dad have it.  It sounds like he was direct but not angry.  He said he made himself a list prior so he didn't lose track of what he wanted to say. He told him that he was wrong for talking about us and telling the staff to keep secrets from us.  He told him he has no right to judge, question, or yell at us when all that we've done is to benefit him and make him comfortable.  He said that his dad demurred and downplayed and denied.  He said he'd have to talk to us.  B-i-l also left it with a "I need a break, you need to think about this, and I'll see you when I see you."

AND THEN the next morning, his dad called Kevin and sheepishly asked what it would take for both of us to come talk to him. Kevin said he would go but he would ask me because "She's really upset with you, dad. You hurt her feelings.  And mine."  Kevin let me sleep in then after I was fully awake, he told him what had been asked.  He gave me the option to stay home but I went because he specifically asked for both of us.

We arrived and he had his serious - think: imperious - attitude so immediately we knew that nothing had changed.  Kevin sat down and I stood next to him. F-i-l hedged at first then he began with "I'm sorry that there has been a misunderstanding..."  Kevin stopped him with "There's been no misunderstanding.  You've been talking to everyone about us and told the staff that they couldn't talk to us anymore. You did not talk TO us." F-il vehemently denied it.  Still.

We talked about how it's not a conspiracy or coincidence AND that the niece & nephew confirmed he was talking about us; without them even knowing that there had been an altercation.  

He changed tactics to "I just want to know where my money went and why I wasn't told until THE END."  

To this, I lost my temper a little bit: "We DID explain everything we did, as we went"  He denied it.  So Kevin and I listed  the highlights and I could see recognition dawning on him. "The problem is you don't remember and instead of ASKING, you talk sh*t about us, ask the staff to keep your secrets, and YELL at us when we correct you" we explained.

He again, VEHEMENTLY, denied it. All of it.  

Then Kevin got in his feelings and told him that it's like he discovered his best friend had been lying and talking about him behind his back but instead IT'S MY DAD.  He explained that he's been physically sick about this and his heart is hurt.  "And when we tell you this, that you've hurt us, you double-down or yell at us"

He denied the situation again, specifically about that he's not talking to others about it. I interjected with "Shall we call Niece and Nephew? They're lying?? Why would they make that up? And who else have you  told?  we can bet that you've said the same thing to Uncle and Cousin and anyone else who will listen"  He demurred, again.  (fast forward: yes, he has said this to EVERYONE. It was confirmed)

Then he explained that he only told the nurses not to talk to us because He wanted to FIRST.  Kevin explained that he's had PLENTY of opportunities to do so and didn't AND that it wasn't going to be explained away as simple as that.  That the staff said they were instructed to not speak with us; not that they couldn't say anything until after he talked to us.

Kevin explained again that f-i-l has dementia and it's not new.  F-i-l denied it and got wound up again.  I cut Kevin off mid-sentence, put up my hand in a stop motion to his dad and said "We are Not going to argue about this.  You have dementia, you've had a long while" He did a pouty shrug and tried to argue   "We're not going to argue about it.  We are saying that because you don't remember, it doesn't give you permission to talk badly about your family and then tell the staff to keep your secrets.  There are consequences to your actions."

I told him that anytime he has asked for something, I have made sure he got it and gave examples:  "You wanted $60 for haircuts. I stopped working and brought cash down to you that day. I bought you extra shirts and underwear when they disappeared, I bring you snacks, I bought you cozy sheets. All of this out of our own pocket"  He said "I didn't ask you to do that"   I said - with gritted teeth - "Because we want you to be comfortable and happy and NOT TO HAVE TO ASK"

Then he returned to the us spending the money for the Medicaid spend-down AGAIN. I listed it one by one systematically. Again. "I worked and stressed over this for over 90-days. I know this stuff backwards and forwards and you want to argue with me about it. What was the option?  I worked hard to make sure you were somewhere safe, clean and well-cared for.  What else could I have done?  Just parked you somewhere and let you figure it out?"  There was no response.

Then I was on a roll "You complained about the bank statements so I looked, we've brought you a bank statement every month.  I LOOKED"  His response was that they weren't here and where did they go, with an angry flourish of hands.  I admit I raised my voice, "I don't CARE.  That's not my problem. You asked, we provided and YET here we are."  

Then Kevin calmly and quietly recapped everything that we talked about and how hurt he was and how it's on Dad to figure his shit out.  "We understand that you forget.  We don't understand that you feel comfortable yelling, accusing, and talking about us.  All you have to do is ask. Say Refresh my memory, what happened and we'll tell you again.  But you are not yelling at us again and you are not talking about us anymore"

Kevin then made his exit saying he wasn't going to return for a while and was going to let him work on what has happened and how to fix it.  I double-downed with "You have a lot to think about and how you're going to apologize"  

We called his brother on the way home to tell him how it went.  Again, his brother was just speechless; that their dad doubled-down, especially after specifically requesting we come down, and after the conversation that THEY had.   

In retrospect, we shouldn't have gone down there so soon. That was one of our mistakes, but he seemed regretful and wanting to make amends...then...just didn't.

AND  THEN...Nephew comes home and hears what happened. (We shielded him from it because it was his birthday and a big milestone one at that.)  When Kevin said what happened, Nephew said "Oh, he tells us that every time we go.  It's been like the last three times, WTF"  I mentioned to Kevin that I'm unsure if I'm relieved that he didn't tell us this was happening or annoyed.

Now we're to Monday. This has been going on for four days.

Kevin phoned the social worker and explained everything that had transpired. He wanted to ensure that everyone was on the same page.  Astonishingly, she said that they had to keep his secret if he asked.  When asked what the point of a Power of Attorney was at this juncture, she said it was still important even though it's worthless in this situation.  We feel like this is incorrect and perhaps perpetuating the situation, but we don't KNOW.

The social worker says this isn't an usual experience and I'm sure it's not.  What affected Kevin the most is the fact that his dad has clearly talking to everyone about this. Meanwhile, Kevin has to pretend that even though he's been cast as the bad guy, that's fine and to keep his chin up and continue to visit. His integrity has a shadow now. While it can be rationalized that they know we're NOT messing with his money, there is a shadow of doubt because everyone is human and they've probably seen it actually happen.  

And while this might be their normal, we've never had this kind of situation before. 

I'm not down with them agreeing to the secrecy.  It feels unethical and I don't know if there is anything to be done about it. I can rationalize that they want to protect the confidence they have so he'll continue to tell them what's happening with him and to give him some agency over his life.

 But this isn't keeping a secret that he's messing himself or that he's gotten weaker or something like that.  This is He's saying you're stealing from him but we can't talk about it because we pinky-sweared.

 The recommendation when something like this happens to to redirect, de-escalate or "join him in his reality"  Well, um, okay, in this instance, none of that is helpful or possible.  Think about redirecting a toddler when they want a cookie but you're on an airplane and they can't have it. But you can't leave the room, or take their television/toys away, or put them in timeout.

Days later and it was still not sitting well with me so I phoned the local Council on Aging. I spoke with the lovely human who helped me begin this whole process.  She was sympathetic while letting me know that this situation is not unusual.  There's some relief in This is Just a Stage.  

HOWEVER, she was aghast as the social worker's decision to keep secrets and to perpetuate the situation.  I tell you, I nearly cried in relief.  She suggested taking the situation up a level as "certainly there is a supervisor that can be reached."   I told her that Kevin didn't want to take it that far - yet - because he doesn't want to permanently damage the professional relationship with the staff.  She understood and repeated that it was an option.

She agreed that everyone needs a time-out.  I explained that we had decided on a fluid two weeks and she said that was appropriate.  Not only to let cooler heads prevail and everyone to process but to also allow him to realize how alone he becomes when he behaves this way.  (siblings are also not visiting at this point, in solidarity and even though we never would ask them to do this)

I also dropped off a folder with his bank statements, pension statements and facility invoices at the front desk to be delivered to him.  This eliminates the entire "I didn't know" because he can refer to it to his heart's content.  Additionally, I hand-wrote what each transaction was so there was nothing but transparency.  We let the caseworker know so that she can review it with him as well. This indicates that we're not hiding anything, it's all there in black and white.  Because as much as we hate it, we do need to self-protect. 

Harkening back to when I originally enrolled him in this facility, the counselor said "He's in a safe environment, he's well cared for and happy there.  You've done everything you can do.  The rest is up to him and it's difficult to predict how that will play out."  That was our first warning shot that this might Not Get Better.

AND THEN...

You thought we were done, didn't you?  AND THEN, yesterday the sister-in-law went to gauge the situation and try to mediate. He is still In It.  He still is insisting that he didn't know anything and we spent all of his money and hid it from him.  A week later and no progress.

In the past, when we had situations like this (to be clear: few of them, but they did occur) this would be resolved by now.  We are now in an entirely new situation.  

Prior to knowing this, we thought it was another of his obsessive episodes (that sounds clinical, it's not) BUT the secret keeping was new.  Now what's normally resolved has not, so now it is something more than obsessing and pouting. 

If you're screaming that we know he has dementia, you're not wrong. Yes, he has the beginnings of dementia AND that this kind of behavior is not unusual for him.  Both of those things are true. I would answer that when you're IN IT and people have been fine, one tends to think it's old behavior  and not a new developments.  What's different is that we don't have Kevin's mom to shake him out of it as happened in the past AND he's in a setting where he's getting attention for this behavior.  We're not completely ungrateful and awful children.  We are conflicted.

Also, if you're thinking "Check for a UTI" he had one in November and has been fine since.   Or so we thought.

I considered editing this down so it wasn't a novella to read.  I hesitated and ultimately decided to leave it as a novella because: This shows how complicated and emotional these situations are.  It feels important to leave in all the gritty details.  People don't talk about raising parents enough, there isn't a lot of resources for this situation.  Perhaps by sharing this scenario, someone will recognize themselves or see a glimpse of their future and be prepared.  Not that anyone can prepare for this situation.

So, we made it three days in 2025 before IT PUNCHED US IN THE FACE.  I had no illusions that this was going to be a good year but this wasn't on the list.