This morning started off bad again. Please do not say I have no patience, I do, and besides, many of you say I have a lot of patience, but this full-circle talk is starting to test my patience.
Al was quiet this morning when he got up, which is a bad sign to me in the first place. No wave of the hand and no smile. I think maybe his tremors have kept him up too late again, as I snuck in and checked on him at three am and he was still up. He is taking prescription sleeping aids to help him sleep past the tremors, but obviously, they do not work.
After his breakfast was over he came over and sat on the couch near me. He began by showing me a new bruise he had on his leg. Actually, I could not see it, even when he pointed to it. I had to get up, turn the over head lights on and then I saw a new bruise the size of a pea.
This went from the bruise to two hours of crying and the negativity of his life. I heard that I want him out of the house. I want to live here alone. I don’t care about why he has Parkinson’s. I won’t make the doctors fix it. He can’t do anything anymore. He can’t make his bed. He can barely walk. This list was so long, I don’t have enough fingers to count the remarks he made.
I once again, and I don’t know how many conversations we have shared, told him all the good things that he should be thankful for. He can walk, he says not good. He can feed himself, he says too slow. He can still use the bathroom, he says he struggles. No matter what positive thing I said, he found a way to throw it back at me. I couldn’t take it anymore, and went to my bedroom, and this one time I slammed the door. Yes, it is still on its hinges! It gave me a release. It freed me of my wanting to go out and slash my worst enemies tires! It saved me from digging in the winter garments for my old set of ear-muffs. It felt so good. As I slammed my door, I heard him exclaim, see, you don’t care about me, you left me sitting here alone. I ignored it and laid my head down on my pillow. I knew that it would welcome my company and wrap itself around me.
It became lunch time, and I had to pick-up medications again at the pharmacy. Since this is Al’s favorite place to eat, I planned on eating here also. Here is a photo shot I took today while we were eating. I mention this place so much, I thought maybe you wanted to see what it was like.
As we were walking back to the lunch counter, Al was pretty buckled at the knee. I reminded him to stand as tall as he can so he won’t fall, and this brought more tears, and a loud what did I do now? I didn’t do anything? I asked him to lower his voice, and we did make it back to our seats.
I told my son about it earlier this evening, and he said as long as Al can do it, let him be. I got on the defense immediately, explaining I didn’t want for Al to fall and I felt I needed to remind him. Son says, I am taking away his manhood, that Al feels like I am bossing him. I have thought this over tonight, and can’t decide if I am right, or son is. I hate to see Al fall, and if I don’t say anything and he does fall, will I feel guilty? Should I just let him live his illness in peace, and stay out of the voicing concern areas? I don’t know yet. What do you think? I understand my son’s view, and I get mine also.
So, my son and family came down to grill out. Everything went well. Al didn’t want to eat outside. He prefers the table, because his nose is an inch from his plate now, which makes it easier for him not to spill food, so I let him eat alone, but turned the TV on for his company. They stayed for a short time afterwards, and then decided to head for home. As they were gathering left overs and children, Al was already struggling to get up off of the couch, and before they were all out of the door, he was gone, back to his room.
Do you have any idea how this makes me feel when he does this? I have had to deal with this now for almost five years. I know what all the doctors have said. He has transferred his feelings for dad straight to me, so he doesn’t see me as a friend, more of a boss, even though I try hard to guide gently, and not sound bossy. The way he makes me feel though, is that I am not worthy, period. Only others are worthy of his time. I have been working on getting rid of this attitude of him not wanting to be around me, and actually, I am not too much better at it than I was five years ago. I still have room for growth so maybe one day I will finally accept this for what it is.
So this was our day. Looking forward to meeting my pillow once again, and starting everything all over again tomorrow.