All was going to be fine

Dad is pretty much a single man now. mum is still alive but there is nothing of her left sad to say. Just the shell and even that is failing. Dad spent about 18 months living by himself in his home after mum had to go away then we moved him into his own little one bedroom unit in an aged home complex where he could look after himself but have some help close at hand should it become necessary. The nearest child was 1000km away so it was important if he fell or whatever that he had the magic button on his pendant to page for assistance. All very good in theory. He met a woman (reportedly older) at church and they struck up a friendship which was lovely. Dad was a solitary man after mum was gone so we all embraced the idea of this new companion that lived nearby. On the odd telephone call dad would report how he and Leonie had talked about this or watched that. It was all going to be fine. The kids were relaxed in their thoughts that dad was safe and well and had everything he needed. Maybe we were lax or maybe we were lazy but at no time did I ever think we had an issue. That changed in March this year.
Dad was making noises about wanting to move to Port Macquarie with Leonie. He had been referring to her as his carer for some time now and it had been accepted as a casual arrangement by us kids. The talk of moving to Port was of concern though as his assets and level of care required meant moving back out to an un-monitored home rang alarm bells in our minds. My sister and I arranged to see dad and talk with Leonie face to face to determine what the story was. It was heart breaking to sit and hear Leonie say to us and dad that he had the wrong end of the stick and that there was no room in her plans for him. I saw a flicker in his eye of real pain and I felt it for him. he was an old man with a new lease on life given his wife of 50 years was institutionalized only 200 meters away. I understood and did not judge. How can you? he is still alive and needs companionship. I asked dad if he thought he had got it wrong or if Leonie had changed her story and he was firm in the latter. I believed him and so the seeds were sown for a long and carefully thought out mistrust of this sweet little old lady. All the gut instinct regarding her manner and the way she trailed off her stories in an inaudible whisper started to magnify. Her contradictions of her own statements was no longer put down to an 'aged' brain fart but more serious. I did not like her at all. We left however knowing Dad had heard from the horses mouth Port was not to be. We had broached the subject of Dad moving up to Queensland with us and he agreed it was a good thing to look forward to. Leaving mum behind would be hard but he had had enough of those empty eyes staring back at him on visits and the constant reminder of his own mortality. We set to find Dad suitable care close to us and all was going to be fine.
My sister as the holder of enduring power of attorney for Dad had access to his accounts. As dad was still in charge of his own life there really hadn't been any need to look at the accounts. I suggested maybe she should just take a look to make sure. Sure enough, dad had withdrawn a few thousand dollars and when asked by Bron, said it was to help Leonie move to Port. That was fair enough we thought, she had been of help to dad and dad was free to give whatever he wanted to whomever he wanted. It did however fill in another piece of the puzzle for us and raise the urgency to get dad to Brisbane as she was obviously moving soon herself.
The phone rang and it was Bronwyn. "I feel sick" she said in between teary weeps. Bron had received a call from dad's super fund to let her know as the appointed representative of dad, that a Leonie had called them to ask about the beneficiaries to dads account. I can't put words to the feelings that come when you hear that but your mind races from one impossible scenario to the next, all of them not ending well. The need to extract dad was now paramount. Within a day of 2 we had tickets and were flying down to get dad. My little sister had helped secure a bed in a high care unit in Toowoomba and we were on a plane to go get dad and all was going to be fine. We arrived the Thursday night and went straight to Dad's place. He was happy and well and Leonie was there too. I've never wanted to throw a little old lady in a creek before but this was a definite possibility. We talked with Dad about how exciting it was to be coming home with us and he agreed, reservedly but he agreed. We were booked on a 5pm flight Friday back to Brisbane. All was going to be fine. Bron and I stayed at a friends place that night, enjoyed a lovely thai dinner and a few bottles of good red. The stress of the past few months was slowly being resolved and tomorrow was the final step.
9.30 am we rolled up to Dad's place, knowing he was probably at his usual Friday morning cafe visit with some of the men in the place. We packed his bags, got a few trinkets for him too. Emptied his fridge, emptied his bin and waited for him to come home.
At 11.30am, we were really not sure where he was now. Bron rang Leonie's number to check if she knew where he was. I remember the blood draining from her face and her pleading words "but you can't do that". I took the phone and heard Leonie say "he's with me now, go home". Bron was not coping overly well with that news and I was quite gobsmacked really. We drove around to her unit, about 500 meters away. Bron stayed in the car whilst I walked up the stairs to the second floor unit. She opened the door but stood behind a security mesh screen and simply repeated her claim he was with her now and informed us she had called the police. I was polite. I was calm. Every ounce of me wanted to kick in the door and scare the shit out of her but I was calm, "all was going to be fine" I said. I called into the unit to Dad to come to the door so I could speak to him. I could only surmise he was sitting somewhere behind the door out of sight but could hear me. She turned towards where he was sitting and with an outstretched finger yelled "YOU SIT!". I've never heard anyone talk to my dad like that before and it would not happen again. She shut the door.
Bron called the police and although I could only hear her side, it seemed to be taking forever to get the message across. Finally she got agreement but only after talking to the officer (Jim, a really nice guy btw) that had responded to her call that morning. He only agreed to come after finding out the stories Leonie told him about them living together for 2 years were utter bullshit. She had said he got himself there that morning and was going to stay. The police arrived and I had the distinct impression this was a done matter in their mind and that we would be going home dadless. Jim's attitude changed markedly during the next 30 minutes. A key point when I asked Leonie why she had rung dads super and her response "I didn't and they didn't tell me anything anyways" Jim's eyebrow raised up at that point. The police have such limited powers with citizens so he could not actually force dad from the unit back to our care. The 2 police and me stood in her unit in front of dad and asked him what he wanted to do. He was a shattered and confused old man, pitiful in his lack of understanding of what was going on around him. When Jim asked him about what they had discussed that morning, all dad could do was point at me and say"what that one has been up to". I'm not usually easily hurt but this stabbed me hard. Those were her words I know but he was being a willing puppet. Jim realised Dad was just not in full control of his faculties at that time as his answers were all just plain wrong. We had all the letters from his doctors saying dad needed care, had his official assessment stating his eligibility for high care and the proof of attorney for Bron but this was not enough to force dad into our care. Jim now had a full understanding of the picture and his voice towards her changed as he realised he'd been lied to that morning and essentially used as a set up for us. The only thing Jim could think of was that as dad was unable to navigate stairs on his own easily, the 2nd story was unsafe in the case of a fire. Dad used a walking frame and so thought it was best to be back on ground level at his place. I can't thank Jim enough for his handling of that situation. I laugh to myself now when I think of Jim asking Leonie how dad got himself up the stairs that morning unaided and her telling him it was so. Me carrying dad and Jim carrying his walking frame seemed to have missed her attention at that point. "Sure he did" said Jim in the most sarcastic tone ever summonsed.
We got dad out and away but not after me having to tell Dad that he had 2 choices. Go with us voluntarily or we have a court mental health order made forcing the point.
I think we always prided ourselves on letting Dad do his own thing and just making sure he was safe when doing so. This new method was heart wrenching and totally distasteful but it had to be done if all was going to be fine.
We found out later that she had changed his address to hers with some companies, ordered a new bed suite on his credit card (cancelled and fully refunded) and was of 'concern' to other residents in the complex.
If you have an aged father and he mentions the name Leonie, don't assume everything is going to be fine.

I loved her more

My big sister and I have of late, developed a new and genuinely close relationship, far better than we've enjoyed in the past. It wasn't really planned but just happened. I was unaware we didn't have a close relationship until recently. For as long as I've remembered I've been jealous of people around me that had siblings as friends. A girl I once worked with Tracy, had a brother that would come to the office to lunch with her and they would talk often about the family BBQ's and functions the entire family would commit to. I blame myself for not exactly facilitating this with my siblings as time and distance took its toll. I could have tried harder yes but that's in the past and so now I find myself here.
I've thought about this and consider what played the main roles in this story.
Firstly, Dad was left alone after mum had to be put in the dementia ward and well, he needed to know family was close. Bronwyn and I would talk lots about his care and what was to come of him and pretty much took control as our other siblings were not well placed to contribute. The work was really all done by her as the eldest and I sort of tidied up in the background and did any heavy lifting (literally) with cleaning out his home prior to downsizing. I know Dad was an excellent dad just by how Bronwyn has handled his affairs. I could not have been able to do a tenth of the job she did and I am ever so thankful and love her more for it. Her abilities and efforts made it possible for Dad to be the most comfortable he could ever contemplate being. She is quite possibly the perfect daughter to him. I loved her more for how she looked after my dad.
Second, Bron has over the past few years gone thru a shitty and messed up divorce and well I just felt for her and was ever vigilant in calling to see if all was OK and let her vent to a nonjudgmental and empathetic ear. Hearing her stories and just wanting to help but being unable to was tough but no where near as tough as what she had to endure. I had felt her unhappiness throughout her entire married life but how can you ever say that? How can you tell your sister she made the wrong decision 25 years ago? It was not my place and I trusted that things would be right one day and I was right. My gorgeous niece and nephews whom I would not change in a million years were the upside of that relationship for her. I loved her more for taking charge of her own happiness.
Bron moved to within a few km of me. Since she was 18 and moved away from home we've never lived closer than 100km to each other and for the past 10 years its been 1000km. This all changed some months back when Bronwyn and her true love Roger moved up here. They could well have gone anywhere else in the city and made it harder to see them but they chose my backyard. It's stupid but to run into your sister whilst doing the grocery shopping is just so lovely an experience. To see her every few days and see her growing happiness that's been missing for such a long time, is truly a blessing. I loved her more for being close.
I've been lacking motivation to write for a long time now but upon thinking it was time to get back to it, it was a simple choice because I loved her more.

Just for me

I took steps today to recover a long lost love. A friend had slipped away through no fault of their own but from my inaction to keep them. My love is for me to maintain not them. Why did I think it was OK to sit back and just wait for them to make the move because I wished it so? It's me that needs them,  not necessarily the other way around. I care so much that seeming to be needy and pathetic is irrelevant as long as I can still have the friendship. People look at me and see a big and imposing man, an outgoing and loud alpha male unhindered by self control or giving a fuck about what others think of him. Its strange in contrast  to admit I am helpless to do without them. I will have that friendship again and not let it slip again. Its too painful.

Swimming with the tide

For so long I've just taken the easy path and swum with the tide, not fighting nor caring but just going with the flow. I've recently started pushing back and feel the invigoration of the pressure wave trying to push me over but unsuccessfully. It's unrelenting force once unbearable is now a cause for celebration as I exceed my own expectations and win the daily battles. Getting things done and maintaining the momentum is the key. Whether it's home improvements, buying boats, or simply having food on the table the urge to sit back and let life happen to you must be resisted and you be in control. Yes I'm a control freak as has previously been discussed but this is different. This is being decisive, knowing not only what you want but also what you need out of life and working towards achieving it. I've just been dumb lucky until now. Fate isn't going to steer me for the next bit but shall be a spectator as I flourish and grow by my own hand and not just in tow of others. 

worse

What is it that drives me to gnaw and chew at my nails, tearing up flesh like old tarmac and leaving me bleeding and raw? What is it that is missing in my brain that says "boy that's gonna hurt like fuck when you've finished" I have no idea. I started when i was 5 after my big op.(found here) so claims my mother but I really have no memory of never having the urge to consume myself from the digits up. I gave up smoking easier than this. I did have some success in that I worked my way up from my thumbs. Goals are to be achievable and small step improvements are always a good start. I left my thumbs alone and pretty soon the urge to remove those nails diminished. then the forefinger, given time they grew back and normal maths would expect you to think the chewing would have reduced by 40% at this point. Incorrect. I just focused the entire 100% effort on the remaining 60% of nails. take 2 more nails out of the equation and well you end up with blood. On the upside I have 6 perfectly manicured nails the pride of any drag queen! On the downside, I inflict such agony on myself it drives me to write to an anonymous universe asking why I do it. I've tried every chemical deterrent known to man, I've given those closest to me the absolute irrites on a regular basis. To say I am OCD about it is like saying I'm ..... I just took a strip off my right ring finger nail bed trying to think of a good word......lets just say I'm somewhat manic and stop it there. It churns inside me and I find it quite uncontrollable. I find most things about me quite uncontrollable. Maybe I'm just weak and looking for excuses or maybe I'm just plain FITH. Whatever it is, its worse than any alternative. I'm worse. just plain worse.
PS I just looked at google images wondering if I should add some colour and mine are worse.

Another Position Vacant

It hurts. Not a thing I can do about it but it hurts. I've had you around for so long it just seemed you'd always be there but times change, things change, relationships change. I'm sure one day we may run into each other and smile and be courteous but ex-best friends don't sit well with me. You are or you aren't. there's no in between. I could grovel and beg and force you into something you just aren't anymore but that would diminish what was once there. I'm accepting, I have to be. I'm as much to blame. I know that. Just know that my thoughts of you are nothing but warmth. You out grew me and I just have to be big enough to accept that. 41 years was not such a bad inning though. Id have preferred it was 82 though. Yet another position vacancy to fill. It's impossible though as you are the only one that could ever fill it. I miss you every day.

Today

It fills to the brim, every day more than the last
it swells and creaks and creeps into every last crevice
the push is unrelenting but subtle, barely a puff but complete in its coverage
its hue is black as the ocean depths, depriving of oxygen and squeezing out breath
it has a smell too, musky, dank, dirty and vile all at once.
its here to stay now. get used to it.