Dad + the next step

Friday morning.

Dad celebrates his 80th birthday tomorrow.

I just got off the phone with my mom She’s tired, emotionally and crying. Dad is being moved to a nursing home at 4:00 PM because he cannot transition on his own from bed to wheelchair.

Twice in two days, mom had to call 911 to have EMT’s come to the house because he had fallen out of his chair.

My dad remains eerily quiet. If you catch him deep in thought a smile, however, forced will replace the previous countenance. I know he is concerned. I know he is scared. He does not wish to die but has also accepted this fact as inevitable.

Maker:0x4c,Date:2018-1-19,Ver:4,Lens:Kan03,Act:Lar01,E-Y

He like me is constantly thinking but we have a tendency to not show the rest of the world how we are feeling and of what we are thinking. Some people find this frustrating, I find solace in not wearing my feelings on my sleeve. My father and I have discussed before how we manage our feelings. We don’t believe we are stronger than others, we just don’t believe in what has become, as I call it, the “Art of Complaining.” If I need help with something, you had better believe I will be the first person to ask for help. If I cannot see an immediate way out, then I’ll keep chewing on it until I do. When I say “fuck it” and decided to let it go, it doesn’t mean I don’t care nor does it mean I have given up. It means there is nothing else which can be done or as I like to say, “It is what it is.” Thanks, dad for teaching me this statement. It has saved my ass more than once from becoming overly involved in something over which I have no control. I have signs in both of my offices which hang ominously projecting this belief to all who want to hear.

This morning I called my mom and the upset tone which was in her voice yesterday morning was now replaced by worry and fear, her words muddled by her tears. I will pick her up and we will go, together to the hospital to be with my dad and ensure he has loved ones around him as he readies for what will ultimately be the next steps in his life.

Memento Mori. This term was one which I saw scrawled in spray paint on an overpass under which I have driven God only knows how many times in my 54 years on this planet. I saw it and frankly never gave it much thought. Several months ago after being introduced to Stoicism, I was reintroduced to this phrase.

Memento Mori, when translated from Latin means “Remember Death.” We are all going to die…this is inevitable. Unfortunately, many of us live our lives thinking, believing we will magically live forever. We race throughout our day focusing on what we believe or have been told is important while leaving those things which, in the larger picture are often nothing more than a means to an end. The day after my father was hospitalized, my sister’s father-in-law, the proverbial picture of life and success and the same age as my father, was sidelined by a stroke. His fate remains in the hands of God as a prognosis is too early to formulate. He appears, at this time to be stable. This too is a reminder that our lives can be over in the blink of an eye.

Memento Mori

Advertisements

Our Moral Compass is all Fucked-Up!

I saw something that disturbed me enough the other day that I felt the need to journal about it. My journal and what I write about in my journal is often the fodder for many of my posts.

As part of my job, I am required to be on-call for Crisis Services for one week approximately every other month. Late last night I was called to the home of a 16 y.o. who is home on a home visit with her family. The child, I call her that because that’s what she is. She’s not a “young adult.” She is a child, who had been allowed, based on my brief observation to do whatever it is she wants to do. This observation is based on the fact, that’s right, the fact that the therapeutic residence in which she has been placed for the previous 12-months had been unable to reach the child’s mother via the mother’s cell phone over the past 24-hours. The residence had been monitoring the child’s Facebook account. That’s right, the residence had been monitoring the child’s Facebook account. The child had made several statements on social media indicating her desire to engage in self-harm. Simply put, she had posted several statements indicating she had a desire to kill herself. I arrived with the police to find the parents totally oblivious…as it appeared to just about anything. I asked if there was a problem with the phone, the mother responded, “Oh, I didn’t know they were calling.” Perplexed, because I have and still use common sense, I asked where her phone was and she explained it was in her daughter’s possession. The same daughter using the same phone on which she was making posts on Facebook about self-harm. This is a head shaker for me. To many of you reading this, my head shaking is obvious, for those of you who it is not, why the Hell was this child allowed to have her mother’s phone, unchecked for the period of time which it was in her possession and why was her mother, knowing this behavior has been problematic for the past several years, at least not looking at the phone and its content? This is the parent’s responsibility not that of the treatment program.

There is/was no reason why when this child returned home for a home visit from her inpatient treatment provider, that she be allowed to keep in her possession the cell phone belonging to her mother. There is no reason why a large marijuana leaf should be allowed to be painted on the wall in her bedroom. By the way, it’s not “her room.” Neither of my kids had a room. I had two extra bedrooms in which they were allowed to live their lives when they lived in my house. They could decorate their rooms as long as they did not violate the simple norms of safety, respect, responsibility and being goal-directed. Call me old-fashioned or call me a parent who cares. The parent explained she “wanted to give her daughter her space.” Well, the parents of one of the Columbine shooters felt the same way. They chose to not go into their son’s room. Perhaps if they had, the ugliness that was Columbine would not have taken place.

I don’t understand this gender thing either. You are either male or female. Recently during a therapy session, I was told by an 18 y.o. she was a “Binary Unicorn.” What the Hell is that?! That doesn’t exist! This is what I mean by the lens of our moral compass being broken. We have developed into a society who feels people deserve the right to do exactly what they want to do regardless of the possible consequences. We are afraid to say anything to anybody because we might be violating their “safe space.” Recently I was in a coffee shop having lunch with a friend. It was Saturday so school was not in session. There was a table of four children who appeared to be no more than 12 or 13 who had become loud. Two of the children were making spitballs and spitting them through a straw at the ceiling. As their behavior grew louder and more aggravating, at least to me became more irritated by this behavior. No one, not even the management of the restaurant said anything. Finally, the manager of the restaurant did approach  their table and told them to “stop.” They laughed and the behavior continued. It took me calling the police to get these punks to stop.

I see every day the lack of respect for almost any type of authority. Especially with kids who feel they “deserve to be respected.” I was brought up understanding respect was earned and there were people in m,y life who received respect because they deserved it.

We need to fix this moral compass we have in this country!