A New Season

It's been two and a half years since my dad's brain injury, and this will be the first month in that time frame that I won't see him.   After moving him in and out of three different care facilities, (the last two of which he was kicked out),  my brother and  I are feeling like he's in a good place.  And unlike the other residences, this one happens to be out of the cities.  Nearly five hours out of the cities.

My dad doesn't see it as a good place.  He wants to know "whose idea was it to dump"  him way up north in Mahnomen.  He doesn't get that he can't live alone in his own place, that he's a vulnerable adult.  He doesn't get that brain injury plus alcoholism plus diabetes requires a lot of attention - more attention than my brother and I can handle as co-guardians, and quite frankly, more than any place for seniors here in the cities.  

At 65, (or as he often will tell us "I'm 56 years old, and I can make my own decisions!"), he didn't fit in at nursing homes, where the average age of the resident was around 80.  And other more independent homes for those with brain injuries couldn't keep up with his crafty ways of obtaining bottles of vodka.    At his new residence, he and the other 25 residents who also suffer from chronic alcoholism mixed with another disability are sixteen miles from town.  Sixteen miles from the nearest liquor store.   The new place they call home sits out in the country, overlooking rolling golden farmland dotted with the occasional shimmering pond.  My dad says he's already sick of looking at cornfields, but my brother and I are relieved that he is safe, well-fed, and among people who respect and care for him.

And so begins a new season, one of more limited visits to see my dad.    A season where he perhaps will find a way to turn his attention from simply yearning for a drink, to being able to focus on the some of the things that brought him joy in the past - walks, painting, nature.    A season for me of a bit more normalcy and calmness in my own home, and appreciating the simple pleasures of being a mom and wife.