Control Freak

I’m not sure if it’s a trait of all caregivers or just me, but I was some kind of control freak when I was responsible for my father’s care.  I kept a sharp eye out for his special needs—like making sure there were facial tissues and toilet paper in the bathroom.  With his severe short-term memory loss, he certainly wouldn’t remember to restock those items!

So perhaps the controlling started with the best of intentions to make things better for Dad, but I think they escalated to the point where I expected everyone else in the family to take care of him exactly the way I would.  When my husband and I went away for a month, leaving two of my brothers in charge, I sent them a three-page letter of detailed instructions they were to follow. 

What Dad really loved about visits from his sons was to play with them—to go to a bar and have a beer, to play shuffleboard, pool or cards.  That’s what meant something to him, not the fact that they made sure his laundry was done.  Dad loved to play cards with me, too, and sometimes I’m afraid I was so obsessed with the housekeeping that I neglected his simple need for my companionship. 

The best times with Dad were when we did fun things together, like a walk in Treman Park, along one of Ithaca’s famous gorges, or went out to lunch at Friendlies with his granddaughter and great-grandchildren.  These were moments that enriched both our lives in a special way.

That’s not to say that housekeeping, grooming, and doctor’s visits aren’t important.  Of course I helped the quality of Dad’s life by paying attention to these details.  But it’s also important to relax and let go at times, in order to just be with our loved one, and to let them be.