Guilt

My phone is ringing…AGAIN! I don’t have to look at the caller ID to know who it is. She calls everyday and always asks the same question.

“Hello mom. How’s dad doing? Oh, todays really not a very good day for me. The kids have ball practice, I have to go to the grocery store, do laundry and cook dinner”.

She’s tired. I can hear it in her voice, but she would never tell me. How she can stand to be in that house all the time is beyond me. I feel guilty for not wanting to go see them. Truth be told, I could manage a few hours for a visit…if I wanted to. I just don’t want to. 

“How did you like the flowers I sent you for your birthday?”. I know she was expecting me to come and see her on her birthday. I just couldn’t make myself go. So, I spent a fortune on flowers to make myself feel better-it didn’t work.

I can hear dad in the background. He always wants to talk on the phone but it’s impossible to get him to hang up. “Sounds like dad is in rare form today. Tell him I love him. No, I can’t talk to him today. I will call back later when I have more time to talk. I have to go now mom. You remember how it is, a mom’s work is never done. I’ll call you later.”

Oh God, I think she’s crying. “Mom, it’s going to be ok. Don’t cry. I promise I will stop by tomorrow for a long visit.” Why did I say that? I don’t want to go tomorrow either. I’m a bad daughter.

“I love you mom. Bye.”

I hang up the phone. I’m dreading tomorrow already. The guilt is soul consuming. My dad has had dementia for over 2 years now. I should be used to this and be more helpful to my mom. She deserves a break. Dad had been having symptoms of dementia for about 2 years before any doctor could or would diagnose him. He is only 54 years old. Mom took him to neurologist after neurologist and then to psychiatrist after psychiatrist. Finally, she ended up driving him to another specialist who was 2 states away. She was desperate at this point. He was getting much worse and nobody seemed to know why. After the diagnosis dad just got worse. Mom is a saint. She takes such good care of dad. She won’t hear of putting him in a nursing home. 

Six months ago, I tried to watch dad so mom could relax a little. At first everything was fine but about an hour into my visit everything went south. Dad suddenly didn’t recognize me. He wouldn’t let me touch him or talk to him. I couldn’t calm him down. He was crying and yelling, and I was terrified, but not for him so much as for myself. My dad didn’t know me. That was the last time I tried to help. I do quick, short visits when I have to visit. I just hope that mom and dad can forgive me for being so weak.

“Hey honey. How are you doing today? Last night was the worst yet. Will you be stopping by today?”

Of course, she’s not coming today. Nobody stops here anymore. They say they will, but they never do. I knew what she would say before she said it.

“Dads the same today. He misses you. I understand. You’re busy.”

I guess there wont be a break for me today. I was really looking forward to having someone to talk with. My husband seems to perk up a little when he has visitors. It’s not easy for him. It’s not easy for anyone.

“The flowers were beautiful.” I would have rather seen you and the kids. “You spent too much money on me. Next time just buy the kids something. “I really thought you would be here to see me on my birthday. 

“Dad says ‘Hello’, he’s having a good day so far. He wants to talk to you.” I can’t believe you can’t spare a few minutes to make your dad happy. He isn’t happy very often anymore. He loves you.

“I will tell him that you will call him later.” He won’t remember anyway. We both know that she isn’t going to call back.

I look over and he’s got that look coming back over his face. I start to cry. His reprieve is never long enough. 

“I’m sorry honey. I know you will come for a visit when you can.”

“Tomorrow? That sounds great. I love you too. Bye”.

I wish I believed she was actually coming. If she does come it won’t be for a long visit. It never is. I know she thinks I can’t care for her dad the way he deserves. She thinks he needs professional care, and she may be right, but I can’t bring myself to do that to him. He gets so afraid and cries for his mom. I can’t put him in a place that he doesn’t know and with people who may be mean to him or abuse him. I know that deep down he still knows who I am. I know that he is depending on me to take care of him just like he would do for me if I was in his situation. I just hope my daughter and my husband can forgive me for doing what I hope is the right thing.

Sitting in a comfy recliner, covered in a cozy throw, is a man. Depending on your age you would either call him old or middle aged. His eyes are clear, and he can hear his wife, at least he thinks it’s his wife, on the phone. He wants to talk to someone too. He wants out of this prison. How long has he been in this chair? How long has it been since he ate a meal? Was he sick? Why wasn’t he at work? He yells “Give me the phone. I need to say hello.” The woman keeps talking. She looks sad. Did he make her sad? Things aren’t clear anymore. Where is he? He needs his mother. She always makes him feel better. She always has time to talk to him. He isn’t at his house. Where is his house? How did he get here? His mom is going to be so angry with him for running off. She will be so worried! He hopes his mom will forgive him.