A
I got off the phone with my oldest brother. A family problem has come to a head. It's a whopper. He's not a believer, but even he said he's hoping for "divine intervention," so this is me asking my spiritual bros and sises for that.
Dad has had dementia for ten years now. He lives alone in a house on five acres of woods in the middle of nothing in particular but pretty scenery. He also has two cars.
See the problem? Yeah, that moment happened last month. A phone call to my husband from a cop at 10:30 PM on a Saturday night. (Hubby, as in he doesn't even have my family name, so that's not good that that was the only name Dad could come up with. Dad has six kids!) I took the call, once she (cop) figured out I'm Dad's daughter. Apparently Dad went to the senior's center to get his haircut (which they only do on Wednesdays), at 9 AM, got "a little lost," ended up in Philly for a few hours, (he's north of Philly/my city, so the only thing landing in Philly does when you're lost from that angle is land you in the worst of the ghettos -- a place even people living in the ghettos call "the Badlands"), and the cop stopped him back in his county 30 miles of his home (and 2 minutes from my youngest brother's home.) 13.5 hours "lost." And the cops wouldn't give Dad back his driver's licence or keys to that car, so that car is now where Dad went that night -- youngest brother's home. (Dad is threatening to cut off the two youngest siblings unless one of them brings his car back. They're devastated, given they're closest to him and have taken care of him the most in all of this.)
And that happened a few weeks after he set a pile of fireplace wood on fire and never EVER put it out. (The wood pile, which was roughly 12 feet wide and 5 feet high, was under trees at the last stages of their life expectancy too.) Neighbors called in the fire. Dad thinks he owes firefighters "a little extra this year for helping me out." YIKES!)
It's time. It's time to put him in senior's resident care. Oldest brother got stuck with the legal issues for Dad back when Dad was first diagnosed, so he researched good places to put Dad. (Money is NOT an issue for Dad.)
You'd think I just told the problem, didn't you? Nope. That's the head of the problem. The problem festers under the head. Guess who decides if Dad gets sent to a facility? DAD! Not brother. Dad has to decide he's ready to be put away because he no longer is mentally able to decide if he's mentally able. How messed up is that? The truly, utterly, completely mentally disabled are still responsible for their own decisions! That's the law. Dad won't leave his house except by a Hurst. Well, except, he can still use his other car to go out and buy his alcohol, the only thing he's been living on lately, but he doesn't know that. (He thinks he eats. He doesn't.)
So, besides taking him to court, (and he can't be forced to go, if he doesn't want to, in which case, how can the judge make a fair decision), the only other choice that we know of is to have the state go in and decide. They can (and will) decide to take Dad away but to where they will take him, not the place oldest brother picked out. Of course, what do they know except where to send the destitute, so we're talking he goes in a dump, if we can't talk Dad into leaving on his own. He is living on instincts, and his instinct has always been OCD -- or, "what do I want? That's the only acceptable answer." What he wants is to stay in his home, so there is no other "acceptable answer." He can't think past that anymore, and he had trouble thinking past that even back when he could think.
So, there's my rant. There's my request for "Divine Intervention." And, please, PLEASE!!! If anyone knows another option that works in the State of Pennsylvania, I'd love to know it. I've given you the big picture. It's worse than that by so much it's too much to explain.
As for divine intervention? Dad will be 85 in August, if he lives that long. I'm not asking that he be miraculously cured. He's gone! The only thing left of the man I call "Dad" is a body and his instinct. As for the drinking? The last time I saw Dad sober was before that youngest brother was born. Youngest brother is 29 years old. So, yes, divine intervention, but something that doesn't slow this all down, but is so obviously God the rest of my family finally figures out, for sure, God is!
Dad has had dementia for ten years now. He lives alone in a house on five acres of woods in the middle of nothing in particular but pretty scenery. He also has two cars.
See the problem? Yeah, that moment happened last month. A phone call to my husband from a cop at 10:30 PM on a Saturday night. (Hubby, as in he doesn't even have my family name, so that's not good that that was the only name Dad could come up with. Dad has six kids!) I took the call, once she (cop) figured out I'm Dad's daughter. Apparently Dad went to the senior's center to get his haircut (which they only do on Wednesdays), at 9 AM, got "a little lost," ended up in Philly for a few hours, (he's north of Philly/my city, so the only thing landing in Philly does when you're lost from that angle is land you in the worst of the ghettos -- a place even people living in the ghettos call "the Badlands"), and the cop stopped him back in his county 30 miles of his home (and 2 minutes from my youngest brother's home.) 13.5 hours "lost." And the cops wouldn't give Dad back his driver's licence or keys to that car, so that car is now where Dad went that night -- youngest brother's home. (Dad is threatening to cut off the two youngest siblings unless one of them brings his car back. They're devastated, given they're closest to him and have taken care of him the most in all of this.)
And that happened a few weeks after he set a pile of fireplace wood on fire and never EVER put it out. (The wood pile, which was roughly 12 feet wide and 5 feet high, was under trees at the last stages of their life expectancy too.) Neighbors called in the fire. Dad thinks he owes firefighters "a little extra this year for helping me out." YIKES!)
It's time. It's time to put him in senior's resident care. Oldest brother got stuck with the legal issues for Dad back when Dad was first diagnosed, so he researched good places to put Dad. (Money is NOT an issue for Dad.)
You'd think I just told the problem, didn't you? Nope. That's the head of the problem. The problem festers under the head. Guess who decides if Dad gets sent to a facility? DAD! Not brother. Dad has to decide he's ready to be put away because he no longer is mentally able to decide if he's mentally able. How messed up is that? The truly, utterly, completely mentally disabled are still responsible for their own decisions! That's the law. Dad won't leave his house except by a Hurst. Well, except, he can still use his other car to go out and buy his alcohol, the only thing he's been living on lately, but he doesn't know that. (He thinks he eats. He doesn't.)
So, besides taking him to court, (and he can't be forced to go, if he doesn't want to, in which case, how can the judge make a fair decision), the only other choice that we know of is to have the state go in and decide. They can (and will) decide to take Dad away but to where they will take him, not the place oldest brother picked out. Of course, what do they know except where to send the destitute, so we're talking he goes in a dump, if we can't talk Dad into leaving on his own. He is living on instincts, and his instinct has always been OCD -- or, "what do I want? That's the only acceptable answer." What he wants is to stay in his home, so there is no other "acceptable answer." He can't think past that anymore, and he had trouble thinking past that even back when he could think.
So, there's my rant. There's my request for "Divine Intervention." And, please, PLEASE!!! If anyone knows another option that works in the State of Pennsylvania, I'd love to know it. I've given you the big picture. It's worse than that by so much it's too much to explain.
As for divine intervention? Dad will be 85 in August, if he lives that long. I'm not asking that he be miraculously cured. He's gone! The only thing left of the man I call "Dad" is a body and his instinct. As for the drinking? The last time I saw Dad sober was before that youngest brother was born. Youngest brother is 29 years old. So, yes, divine intervention, but something that doesn't slow this all down, but is so obviously God the rest of my family finally figures out, for sure, God is!
