I woke up at 4:45 this morning and could not get back to sleep. I kept thinking about something my dad said to me the other day and try as I might I could not get it out of my head.
I asked how he’d been doing since my last call a week earlier. “Oh, not so good. Going downhill fast.” I asked what he meant by that and he said, “It’s these damn sinuses.”
My dad’s had sinus problems for the last couple years, and despite trying numerous prescription medications, nothing seems to clear it up.
As I lay there in the dark this morning, listening to (and quite envious of) Ben’s blissful, rhythmic breathing as he traversed the astral, it hit me. The root cause of Dad’s sinus problems is the fact his place hasn’t gotten a proper, thorough cleaning in at least five years—and probably closer to ten. In addition, he never opens his windows to air the place out, so it’s not just dust, but probably mold and god knows what else. (He blames “the cats that come over and shit in his yard.” I find that as a source of nasal irritation highly unlikely; my dad just hates cats.)
Anyway…
The man is 86 years old. And while he’s still sharp mentally, he doesn’t have the dexterity or physical stamina he used to, so he admits that while domestic maintenance may get started, it’s never finished. He’s also become a borderline hoarder, and attempts over the years by my sister and I to get his place decluttered so that we can clean have been met with extreme resistance.
(If you watch an episode of Hoarders and see how the folks react when their stuff is being hauled off is exactly what we’ve gone through with Dad.)
A little backstory to his current housing situation is necessary: In 1994, after breaking up with a woman he’d been living with in the Bay Area for several years, he moved back to Phoenix and bought a nice mobile home across the street from his sister in what was, at the time, a decent little park.
A couple years later my aunt moved up north and in the years since the park has steadily gone downhill.
About two years ago, after a wind storm severely damaged his carport and patio covers, he said he’d had enough, and there was a brief window when he was open to the idea of moving into a proper apartment. Wrapped up in our own lives, my sister and I could never coordinate a time for the three of us to start looking for places and eventually our window of opportunity closed.
After Ben and I moved to Denver, there was even some positive discussion about Dad going into an assisted living household, but as of today, nothing more about it has been discussed.
I’ve thought about hiring a cleaning service to come in once a week to at least dust, vacuum, and clean the kitchen and bathrooms, but I can’t do that until the place is de-cluttered. Apparently the VA also has a program available to him where someone comes in and does basic housekeeping. That sounds like an even better solution since it’s free, but again—before that can happen, the place needs to be de-cluttered so that cleaning is even possible.
At this point I would be willing to go down to Phoenix and get the place in order myself—Dad’s protestations about “touching his stuff” be damned—but I don’t have enough accumulated time off yet to do that. I can’t ask my sister to undertake the project herself; not only because it’s unfair to her, but we aren’t exactly on the best terms these days. (She seems to be carrying around a whole lot of anger at the world, and resentment at me in particular for moving to Denver and “leaving Dad in her care.”)
So I don’t know what to do. It’s unhealthy for him to remain in his current situation as it stands, but I have no immediate solution to rectify that.
Any suggestions? Certainly I’m not the only one to have ever been in this situation.
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