The kids waited a bit and asked to be excused. Tom sat in this chair for a moment, and then he came down, took my plate, and kissed me on the head as he did. “Everything will be all right.”
He headed into the kitchen.
I was stunned. “Everything will be alright?” Didn’t he understand what I just did? Didn’t he know how life changing it was? Eighteen years of work and it ended less than two hours ago? Just like that? “Everything will be alright?” I headed into the kitchen after him.
“Tom, I really quit. Really quit. Dad needs me here. I just can’t put him in a home. I just can’t do it. It has to be me….”
Sometime later, it was probably ten minutes or so, I stopped rambling. We were at the dining room table drinking coffee. Did not remember getting it, pouring it, tasting it, or even seeing it, but it was half gone and tasted good. Realized Tom had not said a word. He listened as the worry about money and what I had done spewed forth. He just listened.
I was spent. He was still silent. “Tom, did I do the right thing?”
He smiled. “Yes.”
He grabbed my hand gently across the table. “Mal, you did exactly what you should have done. What I knew you would do. What you had to do.” He smiled again.
“The kids expected it. I expected it. We just waited for you to do it. It is what makes you, you.”
I was at a loss for words. “Tom, what are we going to do about money? We needed that paycheck.”
Tom went over to his briefcase, took out some papers, and came back to the table. He showed me how much we had in mutuals and savings. He explained how much he needed to withdraw to keep things afloat for the short term. It was all laid out. We were good for the rest of the year and then would cash out all remaining retirement assets after the first of next year if we needed. We had enough to get by, kept all the medical coverage, and just had to cut some expenses around the house. Tom had everything mapped out already.
He smiled and answered my unasked question. “Had it ready for about two weeks now, Mal. You focus on your Dad now. Full time. We can, and will, make this work.”
I love my husband. At that moment, I loved him more than ever. Things were going to be alright. Things were going to be alright. My entire life just changed and things were going to be alright. Dad would not be alone. I would not be alone. Together, our family was going to make sure things were going to be alright.
Tears were my dessert that night. Good ones for the first time in a long time. Tom had a special dessert that night too. I felt a little saucy that particular Prince Spaghetti Day.
New Routine
Things were indeed alright. The new routine came quicker than I thought it would. Almost immediately, Dad was more present more of the time. He understood I was home for him. He did not like that I quit my job because of his illness. He loved that I quit my job to be with him. We became quite the pair.
The quality of the time we spent together held Fuggeddaboudit at bay for quite a while. Dad’s improvement confirmed one thing very quickly. I did the right thing quitting my job. My priorities were right. Dad and I had the best time of our lives together and that trumped any payday.
Dad followed me around the house when I cleaned. That meant a change to my cleaning routine, not that I really had one before I quit my job. More of a way than a routine. With Dad as a shadow, I did not multi task. One room at a time. I did everything with him right there. Sometimes he just sat in the room to be near me. Most times he talked about things. He made suggestions, asked questions, commented on things in the room, looked out the windows, and pointed things out that should be done. Quite frankly, he was a pain in the ass. I loved the time with him still. I felt him. He just liked being there, around me. Around motion, around life. So I cleaned. Slower and slower. He liked being there. Very quickly, I liked having him there. Sometimes I dusted the same area over and over. Other times, my actions were more pretend than effective. It cleaned me more than it did the room. Cleaning became hanging out with Dad time. My house may not have been much cleaner but it was one heck of a lot warmer.
Brainless TV time became one of my guilty pleasures. One that still shocks me a bit. Low budget and low maintenance, I reluctantly filled gaps in the routine with TV time for Dad. Soon, I really did watch the shows right along him. My passion for Plinko is totally his fault. He loved “The Price is Right”. Me? I didn’t know what Plinko was, then sucked at it, and then cracked the code. I got damn good at it. It takes a lot of skill and really great shopping skills. Soon, I won almost every day. Right there in Dad’s living room.
He and I had coffee together after everyone was gone to work and school. We watched the Today Show. The Price is Right came on later and, I have to be honest, we built most of the schedule around it. He would have insisted if I had pressed him. Since it was important to him, it was just the right thing to do. That is my story and I am sticking to it.
Time watching TV was actually my assessment time. It gauged the day. Some days, Dad was just not fit for anything but sitting around the house. Other days, I engaged him in things that ranged from checkers, photo album reviews, reading to him, or just talking. Most days, at least at the beginning, he was present and that meant any excuse to get him out of the house while he was still able.
Inside is inside and outside is needed as well. So, I planned outings. Me and Dad. Father-daughter field trips. As with most plans, some were hits and some were misses. With budget cuts, outings had to be relatively inexpensive…preferably free. Outings also had to be something that meant options. The option to walk and do things or to just sit if that was needed that day. Walks to the beach fit the bill perfectly.
Living less than a half-mile from the beach had its advantages, especially on a tight budget. Dad and I walked to the beach a lot. We would go there and sit. Maybe even walk a bit further. We both loved the water and enjoyed that we had time to be near it.. Other days, he came with me to the stores. Once, he even came with me to the Beauty Shop. That was a onetime deal. Not because of Fuggeddaboudit. Because Dad was bored silly. He almost bolted when I wanted to stay for a pedicure. My toes waited that day.
We did rides to visit friends but that had more misses than hits. Seemed folks had lives and did not just sit at home waiting in case we decided to pop in for the first time ever. Go figure. Tried a bus ride to the City. One time. Details too gory to even mention. Tried a little bit of this and a little bit of that. Then I hit a home run, outing wise.
Dad and I went to the movies. It became our time. The best time we had together. Matinees. On a weekday! Cheaper prices. Less people. A few times it was just him and me. A theater all to ourselves. We’d be silly and pretend it was a private screening. Dad would clap him hands and say “Roll ‘em” like some big shot. He tried to time it perfect. He enjoyed that so much I cracked up. My Dad. The Hollywood Bigwig.
The Hollywood Bigwig who smuggled in candy with his daughter cause the theater prices was borderline extortion. Dad and I waited until the movie was on to eat our clandestine confections. He liked his Milky Ways. I varied but chocolate was usually involved. Dad and I were together yet in the movie. In the movie.
I got that from Dad. He immersed in movies. Always had. Went right into them. Shut off the world and lived in the story. He did more than watch movies. He lived them. He was able to totally suspend reality. He was there. I learned that from him. We really enjoyed movies.
With Fuggeddaboudit in the mix, it was extra sweet. A place to be where we forgot about Fuggeddaboudit. How ironic is that? A place where we were somewhere else and it didn’t exist. That was worth the price of admission alone. Even at the evening rates. Dad and I went to the movies two times a week for a long time. Monday and Wednesday became pretty standard. Monday to begin the week with a self-indulgence long denied by work weeks. Wednesday to make that day mati
nee AND Prince Spaghetti day.
It was a wonderful new aspect of our routine. Days turned into weeks and weeks into months. Dad slipped away more and more but it seemed slower. I realized the importance of routine for Alzheimer’s patients. Routine gave the road of life grooves. Grooves that reminded victims on the path when they lost their footing. Dad still lost his footing but Prince Spaghetti on the plate in front of him reminded him it was Wednesday when Fuggeddaboudit hit mid-bite. A Milky Way wrapper in his hand brought him back to the show rather that spending time at the circus.
Hope arrived for me in this war. Hope in the form of routine. Drugs came and went. Doctors’ advice was hit and miss. Turned out the best weapon against Alzheimer’s was routine. That is a prescription that doesn’t need health warning. I armed myself to the teeth and went to war to keep my father with me.
Fuggeddaboudit invaded my world and was about to see that I was not going down without a fight. Step right up and see the show. Two tickets, please. Two shows a week, matinees on Monday and Wednesday. Hurray for Hollywood.
Model Son
Movies were a great way to spend time with Dad, keep him busy, and enjoy myself a bit in the process. It was more about being with Dad rather than taking care of