Dad

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“Bob, I'm really getting worried about Dad. He cleared up the breakfast things this morning and when I came into the kitchen, I opened the fridge and the dish detergent was in there. Now that's not the worst thing in the world, but I swear yesterday when I came down for breakfast he looked at me and I could tell, that for maybe as long as a minute, he really didn't know who I was. I know he couldn't remember my name and then he kind of came to and seemed alright. Sometimes he seems fine, but other times he really isn’t. I worry about the two of us working such long hours and leaving him here alone so much of the time. But if it weren’t for these long hours we really couldn’t survive financially. What if he leaves the stove burner on or what if he just walks out the door not quite realizing what he's doing and disappears? You hear about things like that.”

Bob listened to her attentively and said, “OK, we have talked about this before and maybe we need to have a family meeting with Dad and revisit the idea of the long-term care place. We've heard really good things about that one and we know someone who's stayed there so let's see what he thinks”. 

Bob and Sherry had their meeting that evening with Dad, and Dad, always mindful of the fact that he might be a nuisance to them, agreed that they should definitely look at Happy Valley and that he was ready to move into it if it were the right kind of place. They went to see it the following Saturday and the rooms were spacious and light and clean, of course. The staff were very friendly, pleasant and enthusiastic about the home itself. They talked about the extra benefits like music programs and party nights and games afternoons and it sounded like just the sort of place that Dad would enjoy and where he could make new friends. So then and there the three of them made the decision that they would take the next available room. They went home in high spirits. Although they were sad, they felt they had made the right decision. Two days later they received a call, much sooner than they expected, that there was a room available. It was on the ground floor overlooking the garden. They had seen that room, and it was indeed a pleasant space. So, packing began and frisky, Dad's dog, whom he loved more than anybody, was jumping around helpful as ever. Dogs were allowed to visit and they could visit frequently of course so it seemed all right.

Moving day arrived. They had chosen Happy Valley, despite its name, and Dad moved in. The next day Sherry went to visit dad and all seemed to go well for a number of weeks. Then COVID-19 struck. Sherry went after work one afternoon and the attendant at the door refused to let her in. The attendant said that someone in the home had Covid so they were locked down and visitors were not allowed. Sherry went home confused and disappointed but tried again the next day and this time no one came to the door. There was a sign and it read, ‘no visitors allowed’. They called dad and he sounded confused as well. He didn't quite sound like himself, but everyone thought this will pass and we'll get through this soon enough. As the days went by and they continued to call him he sounded more and more not himself. His confusion grew and he was beginning to sound depressed. There were times when they weren't sure that he knew quite who they were, but they kept calling him and they kept trying to get into the place but were not allowed. They contacted the management and said they wanted to remove dad from the home. Because covid was rampant in the place by then Management said, “no, we are locked down and not allowed to release any of the residents”.

Sherry and Bob were beside themselves with what to do and the more time that went by the more dad seemed to be deteriorating. So together they came to the home. They knew where Dad's window was but though it was on the ground floor, it was too high up to be able to see through it. So, they found a bench on the grounds and together they carried the bench over to the window, clambered up on it and looked through the glass. There was Dad lying on the bed, his back to them and the room was dishevelled. There were clothes lying around and dirty dishes everywhere. It didn't look like anybody had been looking after things. They'd heard on the news that so many of the long-term care home workers were leaving their jobs in frustration from overwork and underpay. They could see that there was simply not enough staff. They tapped on the window then knocked harder and eventually, Dad turned over in his bed and looked at them, not seeming to recognize them. They smiled and mouthed words and finally some light came into his eyes. He sat up on the edge of the bed and a small smile crept onto his face. He worked his way over to the window and looked directly at them. He put both his hands on the glass; Sherry put one of hers on one of his and Bob put his hand on Dad's other hand. They held themselves there for minutes. Sherry mouthed I love you and Dad smiled and nodded. Unable to stand any longer he took his hands down and turned and got back into the bed. Bob said to Sherry, “we will come tomorrow and bring Frisky. That might cheer him up, he’ll surely recognize Old Frisk.”

But that night they got a call from the home. Dad had died - of Covid.

Sherry and Bob had Dad cremated and for some time afterward they simply held one another while they shared regrets, grief and tears. Frisky seemed to realize he would not see his dear friend again and he was enormously helpful to his remaining humans, bringing them comfort where needed. At that time large gatherings of any sort could not be held. Certainly not funerals. Eventually Sherry and Bob gathered their closest friends and Bob's cousin, who was dad's nephew, and Frisky, of course, and they went to the care home garden and gathered outside his window. It was a bitterly cold February afternoon but there was something in the crisp air that felt cleansing. They all had the distinct feeling that Dad was there with them. They said prayers, sang songs and told many stories that they had shared through Dad's life as they passed a large thermos of coffee among them. It was a fitting and healing end of life eucharist for all of them. Not long after, Sherry was inspired. She was a technical person in an artistic community and her close friend was a story writer and storyteller. Together they conceived the idea of stories through the telephone for long-term care residents. Sherry did her research and came up with a phone company that through their collected donations they could just about afford. The storyteller pulled together other writers and tellers and they began to record their stories with the recording skills they had acquired during the pandemic. When it all came together, it was a simple technology where the resident of long-term care homes or anyone else who felt they needed this service could dial the phone number and then press one of the keys after the titles were announced and listen to a short creative story anytime of the day or night. This service, though helpful, did not replace all the healthcare workers and nurses that had to leave the homes from total exhaustion, but it was an opportunity to very simply dial up a story when someone felt particularly alone or in need of inspiration.

This project continued as long as the meager funds lasted. We all know that the real solution is through support of people who can no longer look after themselves. Ringing bells and banging pots seemed encouraging at the time, but perhaps brought more relief to the ringers and bangers than anyone else. What is needed is literal support of the caretakers who are willing and able to care for the people most vulnerable in our society. This requires education through current knowledge of our care homes, a change of the societal attitude “someone else will look after it" and the provision of funds to pay the care workers what they are worth. Let us pray and work for this change to bring back our health workers to increase their work in our communities so that all those, like Dad, can be given care and hope and a decent life right to the end.

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