So again, the adventures continue.
This morning, everything seemed fine. I cooked lunch for my father, then went to work. I got home only to see that he hadn’t eaten my lunch. I made him chicken breasts but I cut each breast in half so it cooked more efficiently. My dad told me tonight that he doesn’t like the chicken cut in half because he thinks I am eating the “good pieces” and that I am leaving the “leftover small pieces” for him. Oh boy…. No matter how I explained what my intent was in cutting the chicken, I couldn’t get through to him. He insisted that I was feeding him left over old pieces of chicken. Of course, what went through my mind was “Why do I even bother with you? I slave away to try to make you happy, but you always have something to nit pick on.” I suggested that he throw the pieces of chicken away if he wasn’t going to eat it. He said no. He said he will eat it eventually. Whatever. I don’t believe him. He has a history of throwing away good food to prove his power. I don’t know why I still get worked up over it.
I guess I want him to be “normal” but he’s not. I guess I’m still trying to change him when it is clear that he will never change.
He said tonight that he was surprised at the way I treat him. He says he’s an old man and what will people think if they knew how I treated him? He says he is always being reprimanded by me. He says I always yell at him. I said he is always angry. He said he is never angry. This was clearly a case of “he said, she said.” But as I thought about it, I see the patterns… when my mother was alive, he was the same. She tried to please him and he wouldn’t budge. He nitpicked on small things ALL THE TIME and my mother hid her feelings well. She acted like the “good wife” and kept quiet all these years. I remember one time when I was a teenager, my father lashed out at my mother about something. Somehow I got involved in the argument as well. I remember feeling hurt about something my father said, and I went right up to him, my face only a few inches from his face. I was steaming with anger and so was he. Then he took his fist and punched me in the face. I got angrier (of course, duh) but I didn’t budge. I didn’t hit him back. I just continued to stare at him in anger. Then I said “Do it again”. And so he did! He punched me again! And then I said “Do it again” and of course, he punched me yet again, and again and again. I remember my face burning. But the physical pain was the last thing on my mind. I guess I wanted him to do something extreme in order to see just how ridiculous he was being. But he wasn’t going to even going to think about taking responsibility for his actions. At some point, my mom in tears just pulled me away and we went out of the room. I remember sitting on the couch with her in the dark. And I asked her “Do you love him?” and her answer was “I don’t know”. I know that that really meant “no”. I said ” Why don’t you leave him?” And she said: “I don’t know”. I knew deep in my heart that she didn’t love him. I knew deep in my heart that she wanted to leave him, but she didn’t know how to. In fact, she died about 10 years after that incident. I know it in my heart that she died in order to leave him. Society and cultural expectations have trapped her to her marriage to him, but dying would mean she would be free of him.
Funny that as I’m thinking of this, I am seeing both sides of my parents. My mother on one hand stopped loving him long before I grew up. This is energy that I have felt for a long time about her. On the other hand, my father has this really warped perception that they had a wonderful marriage. When my mother died, my father cried in mourning, saying how he looked forward to spending retirement life with her. He said they had plans to go on vacation. When I heard that, I was extremely confused. “What was he thinking?!” I said as I remembered all the times that my mother would snub him, bash him, and hold in anger over things he would say or do.
What I am starting to realize is that my father really does have a narrow minded view of life. I don’t mean this in a bad way. I just mean this in a very objective, almost pityful way. Everything he’s said to me over the last year indicates to me that he lives in an illusion.
When he was living in Canada, my husband and I would go to his house and see how filthy the house was, and how miserable he was. Together, we both decided to ask him if he wanted to live with us in the US. He gladly accepted. We sold his house, moved him down here with us in hopes of a better life. But then reality struck half way through the year. He started acting out in the same way he used to with my mother, and then with his sister whom he had a falling out with, and then every single friend, caregiver and roommate that has ever wanted to help him out. He drove them all away. I even remember that he went on a cruise with a couple – some family friends who had known both my parents for years. After the cruise was over, he never heard from them again. He told me that they never included him when they wanted to go out and eat. He said he was left alone a lot. What I gathered from that is that he was too needy and he pushed them away.
I think of all that only to realize that I am going through the same thing. He is being way too needy and I feel like my energy is being drained, and so I retreat. And that is when he gets upset. This is the pattern that everyone who has ever lived with him, would go through.
So, my dad’s communication skills suck the bag. He does all these hurtful things like throwing away food, yelling at me, calling my husband names, etc. but what I think he really wants is to be part of a family. He wants to eat with us, he wants to be included when we go out. But I have not wanted to go out with him because he’s so crabby and moody and also very insulting, and I don’t want my energy drained so I don’t invite him anywhere. I am not sure where the happy medium is.
Sometimes I just want to give up on him. I have suffered through so much pain just dealing with his insults that I want out. But then there is this other part of me that really feels compassion for him sometimes, and all I wish is for him to have peace with himself. Ultimately, I know that no one gives a shit about him. He has pushed every living being away from him. I guess I feel honored with the duty of loving him through better and worse! And so far there has been more worse than better! I guess I want to stay with him to show that not everyone leaves him.
If I leave him too (which on many occasions, I have considered doing), then I am leaving part of myself that needs love and forgiveness. Once I am no longer triggered by him, that will be the time that I am ready to leave him. Is this my innate duty? Who the hell knows…..
Adventures with my Elderly Father 