2006-11-23 - 12:32 a.m.

This might shape up into being a somewhat bizarre Thanksgiving. Instead of a family gathering which my father said he specifically did not want, I am going to the wedding of a friend from work. This particular friend has been deeply embroiled in some personality and office conflicts for the past year or more, and as a result, she now has quite a few enemies. But I am not an enemy of hers and I think I may be one of the few remaining people working there she still likes, so when she invited me to her wedding, even though I definitely wanted to go, I did feel almost an obligation to go, despite what could potentially be an awkward date (actual Thanksgiving Day). Others, though, having families of their own, will not be able to go, or else will stay away due to the bad blood at work. Therefore, I am not sure if there will be anybody at the wedding (other than the bride) that I will even know.

The event will consist of a Jewish wedding, followed by a Thanksgiving Dinner as a reception. I have no idea (other than lots of the bride and groom's relatives) how many will be there, but, oh well, it's an adventure and I am lending support to their marriage.

My going to this, though, has caused a widening of a rift within our own family, because, as you might have guessed, they are going to have the "big" family gathering at my father's house anyway, despite Dad's wishes to the contrary, and they think there is something wrong with me for not joining them. Well, "other plans" or "no other plans", I wouldn't have gone up there, because I am honoring my father's wishes and so I saw him (just the two of us) during the Veteran's Day three-day weekend, instead, which he thought was wonderful.

I shouldn't be amazed, but I am, that my brother, his wife, and one of my sisters, and her two kids, (my other sister won't be participating, but that is because she wants to limit her flying) are going ahead and having this dinner anyway, but that's because THEY want it and they are willing to think that Dad is always a humbug about holidays and therefore he is in the wrong, and anyway, he'll like it once it's happening--or so they think, but he hated the huge birthday party they sprung on him and I'm still smelling like a rose because I did NOT go to that!

Last Thanksgiving, my sister's fiance told us that conflicts in his family on how to take care of their mother tore them apart permanently. Their conflict got to the point of one sibling kidnapping the mother and flying her back to the midwest to live with her. While things haven't happened to that extent with us, I nevertheless can see the germs of it spreading. For example, the same siblings who are forcing this Thanksgiving gathering onto Dad (and in their case, this also means that they are all going to be staying there in the house, something else I know Dad doesn't like) also each separately tried to convince Dad to go live with them. What's wrong with that...isn't that a generous offer? Well, what's wrong with it is that these offers were "secret" transactions, not discussed "family-wide" in the vein of a mutual understanding "what might be best for Dad", with his agreement, of course. It was more of an effort to take control and take over, and that is still what is going on.

I keep hearing from this same sister (who sees Dad once a week for dinner that she brings to the house) and brother (who, along with his wife, impose on Dad's hospitality for weeks at a time) that Dad "is so nasty and mean" to them. They use this to prove that he is going downhill emotionally, can't function without Mom, and is out of control. My brother wants Dad's care ramped up to full-time, because of this.

Funny thing, though, is that in my visits with Dad, I see something entirely different. He's sweeter than ever, accomplishing surprising things, and does not want any more care than he is already getting. He loves the woman who comes in for half of every week day, he doesn't want anything to mess with that, and then he likes his privacy and solitude. And he's got friends who call him regularly and stop over for a drink periodically, and beyond this, he's got an emergency alarm that he wears on his wrist that can summon help at the poke of a button. He doesn't want anyone imposing anything else on him and regarding the visits from my brother and his wife, Dad says, "I have to keep them at arm's length."

To my taste, my brother is way too oriented toward Dad's death, whereas I am orienting my attention toward Dad's life and the possibilities of his getting better. My brother's the one who lickety-split got Dad to fill out all the "no heroics" living will papers (that are prominently posted on the refrigerator...yeah, okay, these are Dad's wishes, sure, but how does he feel seeing them shoved in his face every day?) and has put the "Corps of Death" (that's what I think of them) Hospice telephone number stickers plastered all over the house. Might as well have the Neptune Society Cremation and Dumping-Of-The-Ashes-In-The-Ocean contract matted and framed on the wall over Dad's bed. My brother wrote me and said, "You seem to have the attitude that Dad is all fine, but I know that he is not. His doctor called me yesterday and told me that Dad is getting weaker." I wrote back and said, "This is the same doctor who said that Dad had from minutes to days left to live. Now, three months later, how could Dad possible be even weaker? His life is now down to nano-seconds?"

My sister said, "You'll never get him out of the house. He doesn't ever want to do anything." My brother said, "He just sleeps all the time, you'll be able to visit with him for only an hour. I tried to get him interested in going fishing, but he said he has no energy." Yet, when I went there at the end of September, Dad and I went to a dinner party at the neighbors. And when I went there during the Veteran's Day three-day weekend, we went out to dinner one night, and the next day, went to the deli for a sandwich and then Dad guided me on a tour of the town. For both visits, Dad was awake and active for twelve hours each day. And he told me that he's figured out the lake where he wants to go fishing (which is halfway up to Oregon from where he lives) and asked me if I would be willing to go fishing with him. If you ask me, my orientation toward Dad's "being better" is working better than the culture of death put forth by the others.

Sure, he could be dead any minute, and I even had to analyze whether maybe I was "keeping him here" (if I even could have that kind of power) for my own selfish reasons when it might be better for him if he went...but I decided that my attitude was the right one. If he's nasty to the others as they say he is, then I can only take that as an expression of his only defense against them and their attempts to control him. If he's sweet and loving with me (which is his true nature, anyway), then I must be doing it right.

I don't know if we will able to do this fishing thing, or not, but I sent him information on the lake where he wants to go, including a chart of which months are better for which kind of fish, so that he can pick a date based upon the kind of fish he wants to catch. We'll be able to rent a small fishing boat and find our way into some hidden cove. This is one of California's more beautiful lakes, and I can see why he'd want to go fishing on it.

In other news, I got a huge new lateral filing cabinet for my office at work; it's got six locking horizontal file drawers and a large locking cabinet on top. In order to see if it would fit, I measured my office and all the furniture in it, drew a diagram of the office on graph paper and made cut-outs of all the furniture so that I could move everything around on paper in order to reconfigure the layout. I came up with the most wonderful new layout that gives me way more space and utility than ever, even with the new cabinet, and easy access from my chair to all my files and bookshelves. The office even looks bigger, and I joke that we could roller blade in there, now. People are amazed at the new look and word has spread, so people were coming up to have a "tour".

The interior of the school has been in the process of being repainted ever since summer, and this year, everybody got something new--instead of the off-white walls that we have always had, everybody can choose a color for one of the walls. Teachers were having a lot of fun picking "their" special color, and some of the rooms have ended up looking really great, but some of the others have not. I think it is really, really, really hard to pick out a color. And my turn to do that came up yesterday. My office wasn't going to be painted until Christmas break, but when the Director of Facilities came up to see my new layout, he said, "Hey, the painters are coming during the Thanksgiving break, why don't we paint you then?" So now I really will be completely newly decorated.

I'm ashamed to say how long it took me to pick my color ("hours!"), which was a beautiful light blue with the color name of "Wild Blue Yonder." The painter said that with my office, I should have that color, but one shade lighter, and it would look good if three walls were painted that blue and one of them painted white. I agreed to follow his advice. I really have no idea how it will turn out...and some people's color choices have turned out badly...and with everything else in my office looking so good, I'd hate to wreck it with the color. But the painter knows his business even if I don't, so chances are, it will be wonderful.

Also, Monday, for the first time this year, I was Guest Mystery Reader for the kindergarten teacher who invited me to do this last year and the year before. These kids were a little subdued and more serious compared to the class last year (all of whom still say hi to me by my first name when they see me), but they liked the two stories I chose to read to them, "The Dog Who Wanted A Boy" (about a puppy who wants to get a boy for Christmas) and "Mrs. Morgan's Lawn", about a boy whose balls keep landing on his neighbor's lawn, and she keeps them and won't give them back, until one week she is very sick and can't take care of her lawn, so the boy decides to rake her leaves for her and she gives him all the balls back and they become friends. The lesson I gave from the first story was "never give up on your dreams, they can come true in surprising ways", and from the second story was, "conflicts come from people not seeing things from the other person's perspective, but when you turn around and look at it from their point of view, the conflict can be solved."

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