Without Further Delay…

I miss writing this blog. But so much of what I want to say is too personal. My life for these last few years has been defined by intensely caring for others: not just caring about them; caring for them. So much of how I’m doing rests on how they’re doing, so I couldn’t explain my well-being – or lack thereof – without explaining theirs, and many of those stories are not mine to share.

By adding my father, and then a new baby to the household, we doubled our number of dependents. And with my father’s increasingly severe dementia, and Cosmo being ALL BOY and having no sense of safety and not napping, the two newest dependents are far more dependent than the original two. And unfortunately, Dad and Cosmo are far more dangerous combined than either would be on his own. As time passes, Cosmo gets marginally easier, but Dad needs more care.

And now I find myself paying my dues for letting the boys’ needs eclipse my girls. I am in remedial parenting mode as I try to help them sort through the changes in their minds and emotions and bodies; the different expectations on them that come with getting older; the toll it takes to have an unexpected sibling who steals all attention and energy; the toll it takes to have Dad here. He is not who they remember, and no one they can now get to know. He does and says things that make no sense; and to teenage girls who are already raw and prickly, he is often an irritant and a source of offense. It breaks my heart to see how they avoid him, and consequently how they avoid a lot of family life. This is not okay with me, but there is no easy fix.

I can hardly keep from crying even as I write these very few words about my father, and this is why I have been so silent. It feels like betrayal to say these things “out loud.” I can’t help thinking how he would feel if he read this, but it’s a question without an answer because he can’t. He can’t operate a computer, or even his cell phone, and he has very little ability to comprehend anything he reads. A man who loved his books almost more than anything, he now carries them from room to room, chair to couch, and holds them as he sleeps.

And where is Steven in all this?  Where are we as individuals and as a couple? Well if the girls’ needs got eclipsed temporarily, we all but disappeared. I think we’ve been operating more as functions than as people. We always manage to find moments of joy, but our primary objective has been to keep on functioning for the sake of all that needs to be taken care of. We’ve had to acknowledge that we’ve lost quality of function, so we moved on to quantity of function. How much can we do and how long can we do it?

Again, this is not okay, but there are some answers to be found for these problems. I am only able to write this now because I’m far enough into some of these answers to be able to see and explain what was going on. These answers are stories that belong to us, and I can tell them. But not today…today is to say what I needed to say, to feel its heaviness and try to let it go. To try and say just enough that you all, friends and readers, understand my silence and are now ready for what comes next, just as I am.