Other Side of the Fence ~ by Amanda M. Thrasher

"Love and appreciate your parents. We are often so busy growing up, we forget they are also growing old." - WisdomLifeQuotes

Like millions of people, I find myself in a position I was dreading,

making decisions about my father's health I wish he could make for himself. I can't help but look at this incredible man who I've often thought as invincible and wonder how on earth did we get here?

My dad used to be a British Royal Marine and an Engineer. He was married to my mom for fifty years, and would have been married to her for life had she not passed. He's a fantastic dad, an amazing granddad, and an outstanding great-granddad. Until a year ago, he worked out daily, lived by himself for fifteen years, cooked for himself, cleaned his own house, grocery shopped, and even tended his yard. He's eighty-five!

His health had never been an issue; the man has never been sick a day in his life. I think, until recently, he could run circles around all of us. However, my husband and I thankfully had discussed the future and what it would look like if dad ever didn't want to live by himself anymore. It's a good job that we'd discussed it amongst ourselves because it wasn't long after that we received the phone call that brought my dad into our home. It was short, to the point, but I know my dad had put a lot of thought into his decision. Once he had made his decision, there was no turning back.

"Amanda, I've been thinking."

"Oh, yeah. What about?"

"I don't think I want to live by myself anymore."

Pause.

"Well, that's OK. I don't blame you. It must get lonely at times."

"It does."

"Do you have any idea where you might like to live?"

"Well, if it's OK with you and Mike, and I'd like to move in with you."

And that was that; dad was living with us.

It was an adjustment for my two daughters, my husband, and my

self at first, having an extra person in the house, but I quickly realized the move was likely prompted by things my dad must have recognized about himself that were concerning him at home. For example, he would wash his hands and leave the water running, or grab something out of the fridge and leave the refrigerator door open. On occasion, he left the stove stop turned on after he'd cooked himself some breakfast. I found myself dashing around behind him to turn things off without necessarily alerting him to it, and then wondering if I should have brought these things to his attention or not. Not knowing what the right thing to do was; I didn't want to embarrass him, and yet I want him to be safe.

Working from home allows me to keep an eye on my dad, and I mean that in the kindest way, and it didn't take long before we all fell into our new-normal routines. Every morning dad shuffles into my office and tops of my coffee with a fresh steaming cup. I can't help but smile as his shaking hands pour the coffee, and though I've usually had more than I need, I'll drink another cup anyway — his beautiful way of nurturing me and taking care of me as I work.

Sticking to a schedule is part of his life, and moving into our home

didn't change that. Up at the crack of dawn, and even at his age, dad manages to squeeze in a workout. He'll often cook himself a couple of eggs, shower, and when lunchtime rolls around, he always asks if I'd like to eat whatever he's preparing for himself. His greatest joy is to sit out back while I work, soak in the sun, and breathe in the fresh air as the dogs all play around him. I have three fur-babies, and he brought his dog with him, so between the four dogs, the chasing and playing around him are nonstop, which makes for great entertainment for dog-lovers.

I must admit I wasn't sure how I would feel about having my dad present in my home twenty-four-seven, and love had nothing to do with it. Every writer has a process, and I am no different; my method includes writing in silence, and my dad is never quiet. His hearing failing him doesn't help, and the constant in and out with the dogs is another factor. Somehow we make it work; he doesn't get offended if I lock myself away in my office, and I don't get offended if he goes to his room to watch his shows. Over time we figured everything out until that is everything went haywire.

My dad took ill, was hospitalized for a while, and he went downhill fast. Too weak to stand, he needed physical therapy before he could come home. That changed things for everyone, especially my dad. Literally, in a blink of an eye, we went from keeping a loving-watchful eye on him as living companions to that of his caregivers as we assisted with the hospital to prepare him for rehabilitation so he could come home. He was a completely different person leaving the hospital than who was admitted. Lying in a bed for nearly two weeks, with short walks to his door, had weakened him in a way that we found hard to believe. He didn't even look like the same person. Compounded by a fall, two broken ribs, and two broken vertebrates, he couldn't even lift himself out of a chair to stand to his feet. Suddenly unable to walk unassisted, he was escorted everywhere for fear of another fall. He became agitated, rightfully so, and refused to eat due to the pain caused by his fractured ribs. As I watched him fade away before me, dropping pounds he didn't have on reserve to lose, his refusal to eat caused a battle of wills between us.

I have no training in nursing or caring for the elderly. I'm my dad's daughter, and I love him, but I have no idea if I was helping or hindering at this point. Dad seemed to understand he was going to a nursing home for physical therapy rehabilitation, and once he was strong enough, he was coming home. But he also needed to understand that he had to do his part, which included eating, walking despite the pain, and mentally wanting to get better.

"You have to eat to gain your strength back."

I felt as if I was continually pleading with him.

"I'm not hungry."

"It doesn't matter. You need to eat."

"I don't like it."

"What would you like?"

"Nothing."

"You have to eat something, anything, but you do have to eat something."

"I'm not eating it."

"Do you want to come home?"

"Yes!"

"You can't come home if you're not strong enough; you can't get strong if you don't eat."

I had been told that taking care of an older person was like having another child in the house, but surely that applied to everyone else's parent except for mine, right? Now I found that rang true. My dad, whom I adore, seemed childlike and defiant at times.

"You're not my mom," he snapped, as I insisted he try to eat some of his food after he'd refused his last several meals. I had to laugh. It's one thing to be told you're acting like your mother; it's quite another to have someone tell you your acting like your grandmother.

"You're losing too much weight, dad," I explained. "If you don't want to eat, will you drink this shake?" I held up a meal replacement, vanilla Ensure.

His steel-blue eyes looked at me as if he'd never seen me before, it was just for a split second, and then thankfully it passed. Against his will, he drank the shake.

I feel blessed that my children, and my grandchildren, have grown

up with my dad in their lives. My goal now is to have home sooner than later where he belongs, and I am confident that despite my father feeling helpless and frustrated, he will be able to come home quickly. Being on this side of the fence, as a caregiver to a parent, I am reminded how lucky I am to have this extra time with a man I admire so much. I try not to think about what will happen the day he will no longer be in our home, how empty our lives will be. But for now, I want to savor every second that I possibly can with him. I want to listen to every story that I've heard a million times; only this time, I will not get up and throw in a load of laundry, make a bed, or write a chapter. I'll wait until he says, "I think I'll take a nap now, Amanda. Is that OK?"
                                        Copyright © 2020 Amanda M. Thrasher
 
Amanda M. Thrasher was born in England, moved to Texas and

Amanda M. Thrasher

resides there still. She’s the award-winning author of YA, General Fiction, MG, Early Reader Chapter, and Picture books. Amanda is a multiple Gold Recipient of The Mom’s Choice Awards® (MCA), earning the award in multiple categories including YA, General Fiction, and Early Reader Chapter Books. She is a two-time Gold Medal winner of the Readers’ Favorite International Book awards, a New Apple Literary Award winner, and an NTBF award winner. Amanda continues to write, speak, and conducts workshops for all ages.

Amanda was contracted to write a graphic novel for the Driving on the Right Side of the Road Program. The publication is part of the Driving on the Right Side of the Road (DRSR) program, developed by the Law-Related Education Department of the State Bar of Texas Law Focused Education, Inc., and the Texas Municipal Courts Education Center with funding from the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals and the Texas Department of Transportation. The purpose of the program is to offer a preventive educational program to encourage responsible decision-making when it comes to obeying traffic laws and to following safe practices.

The graphic novel titled What If … A Story of Shattered Lives was adapted into a reader’s theater for as few as five speakers or as many as twenty-six and remains part of the DRSR program.

CAPTAIN FIN was based on a screenplay by Kevin James O’Neill.

Amanda was contracted to adapt the screenplay into a novel for Kevin. Kevin is a director, actor, and producer. CAPTAIN FIN, the novel, won a Readers’ Favorite International Gold Book Award and was the Gold Recipient of The Mom’s Choice Awards®.

As the Chief Executive Officer at Progressive Rising Phoenix Press, in addition to her regular duties, she assists authors with their work and shares her writing and publishing experience with others through school visits, trade conferences, and writing workshops.

You can connect with Amanda at the links below. All photos are the property of Amanda M. Thrasher and may not be reproduced.

WEBSITE (personal)

WEBSITE (business)

AMAZON