Not a Merry Christmas

Once again, it has been a while since I posted anything. I’ve honestly been unsure of what to say. My dad threatened to end his life just before thanksgiving by eating rat bait once he killed the dogs off. The next night he called the hospital because he said he was having stomach pains. He had fallen and felt that he may have ruptured a spleen or something. They discovered his heart issues and transferred him to St. Vincent’s hospital in Jacksonville. Excellent hospital. He was in ICU for a week. They had to build him up before they could do the surgery. On November 29, 2016, he had triple bypass surgery. It was hell to see him hooked up to a ventilator, but I must say it was easier to see him on it than when my mom was on it damn near 5 years ago to the day. That’s unreal to me…Then, we get beyond the surgery, but my dad has lost the ability to speak and he cannot swallow anything. They talk about feeding tubes and such, which is bad, he wouldn’t have wanted to live that way.
Finally, we get beyond that only for his dementia to start getting worse, right about the time that we were trying to get him admitted to a rehab facility. He starts striking out at his nurses. He attempted to hit a few of them, so they restrained him. They couldn’t send him to a home while he was being violent…so that delayed him starting rehab by another week.
We once again start making forward progress, they untie him and he calms down. He still couldn’t talk right, but the doctors thought it was the way he was normally. They shipped him to rehab on like the 16th of Dec. My dad immediately lost his mind again. He started being a little combative and wasn’t willing to stay in his room without a sitter to sit with him at all times. On Saturday he began telling me to get him out of there. I told him we would have to wait until Monday before I could make other arrangements and perhaps move him to another home that he would like better; one in Georgia that he had been to before. He said Ok. The rehab place called me Monday morning at 2 am. They said he was being more combative, but they were going to give him meds to calm him down. I said that was fine. At 4 am I called them back and they said he was sleeping peacefully. I explained I couldn’t make it down that day unless necessary because of other things that I had to do. They said that was fine. They would call me if they needed me to come down.
At about 6 pm on Dec 19, they called to say that my dad had broken vases and was threatening to cut them so they called the law and he was going to be transported to the hospital immediately. I can’t get him into the home up here in Ga while he is being combative there. On Tuesday his nephew went to see him, because once again I couldn’t make it…My son was doing his semester finals. Dad wasn’t able to speak. I went to see him on Wed and he was still unable to speak in words that you could understand, he was combative, and had no idea who I was. He just kept asking to speak to his daughter and sometimes he asked to speak with his wife.
Thursday I went down again, with no improvement. Friday and Saturday I just called to check in. The nurse sitter let us speak to him on Saturday. You couldn’t understand anything he said, except, “They are trying to kill me.” And “they have me in prison and I haven’t done anything wrong”. I felt horrible for him.
Today, Dec. 25, I went to see him. I wanted to spend Christmas day with him. He was talking in words that I could understand. He was laughing some and joking. He wants to build an expansion on his home so that I can go back to his house and live with him. He doesn’t understand that he cannot build on property that he doesn’t own, but he wants me to be back home with him. His sister also contacted me, demanding to know where he is, saying that they have fond memories of him and love in their heart for him. I told him, he said he didn’t want them to know where he is because they screwed him over. He says not telling them is payback for the way they screwed him over. Then he said some stuff that I won’t repeat through here. LOL.
I wish that I could take back what his family has done to him. If they had not stolen his property and removed me from the premises, he could be home now and not sitting in a rehab facility or a hospital going crazy. He fears that if he doesn’t get home soon, they will burn his home down or something. I don’t like having hate in my heart for anyone, but I can honestly say that I hate the family he is a part of. Even more so because for the first time since 1987, there were no Christmas lights inside of my mom’s house. Her most favorite time of the year was Christmas. 5 years ago, she begged doctors to let her go home so that she could spend Christmas at home. She told them she would go back if they just let her go home for a day. They did let her go home and she didn’t live to see the next Christmas. Since that year, I have put a tree in the living room window where she took her final breath. I put it there even the first Christmas after she passed, even though I wasn’t living in her home at that time. This year, there was nothing but darkness in her window. No laughter and joy in her home.
The first Christmas that I was living in her home, after she passed away…which was the second Christmas without her, I made a Facebook post to her. It Said, “I know a lot of people are missing someone special. I know I do…daily…but especially at Christmas time…and especially this year…Pat Parkinson will never be forgotten…and I am honored to be in her home filling it with laughter and memories over the Christmas holiday for her. It was her most favorite holiday. Merry Christmas Mom.” It is not fair that my dad and I lost her and we cannot even celebrate her favorite holidays in her home. It makes me sad and it hurts my heart in a way that no one will ever understand. Especially not those who took it away from a man with dementia because they were greedy.

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