Monday, December 3, 2007

Back home

Home. Where is it? What is it? Why is it? When is it? (and soon how much is it!!) I've blogged about it before, that elusive home. Not even two months ago when I last thought about it.

Judy's daughter is spending the week. Those two are so close and I do not know which one has been more longing to see the other. I'm supposed to be out of town two days this week. So in the interest of privacy and space I moved back over to dad's house for the week. Saturday night was my first.

Been two months almost since I lived here. On October 6th, the first Saturday at Judy's house, I blogged "It doesn't feel like home yet here. But it no longer feels like home over at 'the house' either."

It feels really strange to be here this time. It is nearly unbearably lonely to be away from Judy. How quickly I've become attached to her.

Dad's room is still where I left it, not that it could have moved. The lights are on still because I've never turned them off. There's an empty spot where the bed was. His real bed is still packed away down in the freezer room. It nearly killed me when I had to take it down and put up the hospital bed. One of the many times I felt like a traitor. Not that I showed it or doubted my decision but feelings are unavoidable. The other furniture is haphazardly placed here and there also just as it was the night he died. The door is ajar, too. But the room is empty and there are no sounds for me to hear.

Every time I come to my room I glance at his door. I try to make myself not look but I always do. I resist the deep down emotion to think that my dad is gone. But it's there all the same.

Nine years ago it was, just before Thanksgiving, that I came here again. I left in 1968 in August to begin married life. I returned once in 1994 but only for a short while after my divorce. Kind of like the marriage was a parentheses is how I felt at the time. I wrote a poem then but I can't find it now. My poetry stage! Long before all that I was the first to move into the house. I think that was in 1964. Dad built it and I'll tear it down.

Parentheses. I hadn't thought about that imagery about my caregiving. But kind of another parentheses wrapped around the whole nine years is how I feel about it right now. If it's like the marriage then that's the way I'll feel for a while yet longer.

Watched a Hallmark movie last night about a lady who begins showing symptoms of Alzheimer's. Made me so sad. The story wasn't really about Alzheimer's. AD was just incidental to the plot. That didn't make me feel better. I should have stopped watching and found something else but I made it all the way to the end. That's my way. Don't give up. Just like with real life. And ended with a spasm of grief and tears although that's not real life for me.

Today I will be at another house for an inspection. Seldom do I see such pivotal events in life where behind lies the past and ahead so clearly the future.

8 comments:

Annie said...

I had the exact same reaction to that movie. I felt my heart getting heavier and heavier, but it wasn't until the voiceover about people living with AD that I actually cried. I'm glad that they had links and info about AD on their website.

nancy said...

it must be especially hard for you to go back "home" since you have been at judy's for a few weeks. i don't envy you having to clear the whole house out and then having to tear it down.

i had meant to watch the hallmark movie and forgot. now i'm kinda glad i forgot.

i'm glad judy and her daughter will be together this week and you have some things to keep you busy. "girl" time can be so much fun as i'm sure "male" bonding is. i'm sure they would like to spend some time with you though.

hang in there, i'm thinking about you and the others as Christmas get closer...

~Betsy said...

Parentheses is a wonderful analogy for the caregiving experience. It's as if our lives were changed into another direction for however long or short our journey was.

I'm kind of glad I missed the Hallmark movie last night. Apparently it touched a lot of nerves among our AD community. My nerves are still raw so I chose the Steeler game instead. :)

I know what you mean about glancing at your dad's door. I still do that - as if I expect to see Mom there or something.

Lori1955 said...

Wow you are having to deal with the past, present and future all at once. I can only imagine how painful it must be staying in the old house once again.

I too like the idea of a parentheses. It is like a chunk of our lives that will never be again.

I watched the movie too. quite a tear jerker. I did think they did a wonderful job depicting the early part of this disease. I'm glad I watched it.

cornbread hell said...

man oh man oh man. your use of parentheses hit home big time. thanks, flinty.

i'm glad i missed the movie you mentioned, though. i get all dramatic enough on my own.

rilera said...

I missed that movie too. Instead I opted for Desperate Housewives.

Hugs to you Terry. I'm glad you have Judy. Take care.

SKYGIRL said...

My heart sunk, to hear you will be staying in the 'old' home, for a week? But on second thought, if you watched that movie alone, you are such a gentleman, you may not be willing to greive in front of anyone, and of course you need to grieve?

I thought the movie was very well done, and of course love Sissy Spacek, so figured it would be a
good one. Made me cry like a baby, but THAT is not unusual for me!

I'm so happy you have Judy too, Flinty. Isn't it funny when at first you thought it would be a hard adjustment, now it seems to fit like a glove. Love, you have, and are Loved, so very important.

Joanne D. Kiggins said...

Wow Terry, your analogy of the parentheses was so, so true. Sorry you're going what you're going through. I know it must be difficult. ((hugs))