"See if you can get Dad to buy some new shirts," hinted my youngest brother one day on the phone.
It seems Dad was down to just a couple of shirts, and while I (with my typical "'clothing blindness") didn't notice, my brother had. He even went so far as to note Dad's shirt size with an eye toward picking up a few garments on his behalf.
Fortunately it didn't get that far. Dad had a doctor's appointment in a nearby town on Thursday, so on Wednesday I told him, "Tomorrow after your doctor's appointment, let's go buy you some shirts."
Dad was surprisingly agreeable about it. So after his doctor's appointment, we went to a nearby department store, and he selected four shirts. "In lighter colors," he said. "Most of my current shirts are darker."
Armed with four new shirts, we drove home, at which point I confessed that Younger Brother had put me up to the task. Dad laughed heartily over that. My younger brother is, thank God, like a mother hen to our parents.
But the significance of those four new shirts – and possibly why he didn't kick up a fuss over buying them – came clear that evening on the way home from feeding my mother dinner in the nursing home. My own imminent departure was looming, and I'm certain Dad was thinking about living in the house alone without Mom (and without me there as a stopgap).
We were discussing the social aspects Mom might experience in the nursing home. While her ability to communicate is limited, she's surrounded by a very nice (if sometimes odd) collection of patients and a lovely staff. She will have plenty of opportunities for socializing with these people
Out of the blue, Dad started talking about his own social life. For the last few years, being unable to leave my mother's side except for a few dashed and gaspingly fast errands or appointments (after giving Mom strict instructions to stay in bed while he was gone, lest she fall in his absence), his social life has been nonexistent. Now, without Mom in the house, he has the freedom to resume his social connections. And – logical engineer that he is – he recognizes the importance of doing so.
"That's why I bought those shirts," he concluded.
Aha. And here I thought his decision was solely based on my feminine wiles.
But it was a pivotal moment in some ways. Dad will have to adjust to living on his own now. While he's somewhat of an introvert like most of our family, that much solitude is not healthy for a nearly 90-year-old man. That's why I was thrilled when, about a week ago, Dad was able to attend the monthly meeting of a men's group from his church, for example. He fully intends to reconnect with this group and its activities, as well as to explore other activities he's been unable to do during my mother's illness.
So yeah, those four shirts are very, very important.
As much as I like my extremely rural lifestyle, I do think for older people on their own, sometimes thrive better in a town or even some cities. They need more accessible infrastructure. And neighbors.
ReplyDeleteMy mother had neighbors on each side of her house that she was friendly with, and their phone numbers were posted on the wall with a bunch of other people's numbers. They never got in each others business, but visited " over the fence" a lot.
I don't know if ya'll have met the neighbors, but it's good to have relationship with people who live just feet away.
I'm glad your dad is looking to socialize more. A men's group like that will probably check on him if he's absent. They will probably have activities as well that mean meal sharing and so forth.
Your dad seems very much in tune with life.
It's pretty great that your father wants to rejoin some social circles (some just get complacent with the solitude). I think we all know someone older who became reclusive in their final years, to the detriment of their mindset, and it's sad.
ReplyDeleteAnd it's also great he recognizes the need for some new shirts, if that's what will make him feel comfortable around friends.
Patrice, the experience my parents had in the latter years leading up to 2020 has really given my wife and I a lot to think about in terms of connectedness and being somewhere. They were quite social in things like church and square dancing, but over the years the square dancing group faded as members aged out. My mother's Alzheimer's also made it difficult to make new friends or join new social groups. And 2020, with its closures and restricted access, made things even more difficult.
ReplyDeleteBut neither is just being near people enough; your father's willingness to re-engage is fantastic. The reclusive factor, which I have in spades, is something that I am trying to more actively work on as I get older myself.
Your dad is indeed a smart man! Only the best wishes for everyone. Look for the sunshine!
ReplyDeleteYep.
DeleteAll the comments express my thoughts so well. It warms my soul that your dad wants to engage with the world again. Gives us recluses something to think about. There is definitely benefits to those (some) senior housing communities. The neighborhood my parents lived for decades was turning over to young families. That is wonderful but my folks were starting to not socialize as much due to the lack of nearby friends their own age. When they moved to the independent living section of a large senior community their social life went into overdrive. They were so “alive” and having so much fun. Lots of services were available to them as well, including transportation to appointments if they chose not to drive. It’s noble to want to try and keep elderly family members living in one’s household, but I have seen some of my friend’s parents in this situation decline rapidly because they didn’t get enough social stimulation or planned activities.
ReplyDeleteI had the exact same conversation with my dad. He took living independently and on his own, on with great courage and a good attitude.
ReplyDelete