| Biographical Non-Fiction posted August 17, 2020 |
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(459 words) Caring for my elderly father.
An Accomplishment of Love
by LisaMay
Your Biggest Dream Contest Winner
When I reached maturity, my biggest dream was that I’d be able to look after my elderly father and see him through his declining years. He had been such a good father to me and, as an adopted person, I felt I owed him: not in the sense of begrudging obligation, but out of love.
I see it as an accomplishment that I was able to do this. Distance was an issue. I had married a man from another country and gone to live there. Habit was an issue. Dad had lived in the same house for forty-five years and to move would require a major upheaval. Resistance from my money-grubbing brother would be an issue. He thought I wanted to kidnap the “golden goose”. He’d become used to our generous father propping up his failing businesses and was concerned that the move would take too much of Dad’s money away from him.
Money is often the cause of family tension. In this case it destroyed my relationship with my brother. His disrespect for my motives was too much for me, and my desire to look after Dad was too much for my selfish brother.
Anything worthwhile often provides challenges. I overcame these obstacles with patience and determination. My dear father had never been on a plane before, but at the age of eighty he boarded one and came to where I was living, to be with me and my husband. He brought his dog and cat, his music and books, his photography gear and some paintings.
We had rearranged our home and made it warmer and safer for an elderly person, providing him with privacy and access to share in our activities. Mum had died when I was a teenager and Dad had never re-partnered. I’d been away globe-trotting for a while and he’d been lonely for many years, so having company was a pleasure for him.
Dad was already suffering from Parkinson’s disease and the onset of Alzheimer’s disease; it was just as well he came when he did. I am sure my brother would not have provided such a caring atmosphere as we were able to offer Dad.
Yes it was difficult. Yes, there were times when I thought I’d bitten off more than I could chew, especially when my marriage broke up. Dad and I had five good years together until he slipped into the last three twilight years when he didn’t know who I was.
My beloved father died more than twenty years ago, but the satisfaction of knowing he was in safe hands for his years with me, that his surroundings were pleasing to him, and that he knew he was loved, has always given me a feeling of personal pride and accomplishment.
When I reached maturity, my biggest dream was that I’d be able to look after my elderly father and see him through his declining years. He had been such a good father to me and, as an adopted person, I felt I owed him: not in the sense of begrudging obligation, but out of love.
I see it as an accomplishment that I was able to do this. Distance was an issue. I had married a man from another country and gone to live there. Habit was an issue. Dad had lived in the same house for forty-five years and to move would require a major upheaval. Resistance from my money-grubbing brother would be an issue. He thought I wanted to kidnap the “golden goose”. He’d become used to our generous father propping up his failing businesses and was concerned that the move would take too much of Dad’s money away from him.
Money is often the cause of family tension. In this case it destroyed my relationship with my brother. His disrespect for my motives was too much for me, and my desire to look after Dad was too much for my selfish brother.
Anything worthwhile often provides challenges. I overcame these obstacles with patience and determination. My dear father had never been on a plane before, but at the age of eighty he boarded one and came to where I was living, to be with me and my husband. He brought his dog and cat, his music and books, his photography gear and some paintings.
We had rearranged our home and made it warmer and safer for an elderly person, providing him with privacy and access to share in our activities. Mum had died when I was a teenager and Dad had never re-partnered. I’d been away globe-trotting for a while and he’d been lonely for many years, so having company was a pleasure for him.
Dad was already suffering from Parkinson’s disease and the onset of Alzheimer’s disease; it was just as well he came when he did. I am sure my brother would not have provided such a caring atmosphere as we were able to offer Dad.
Yes it was difficult. Yes, there were times when I thought I’d bitten off more than I could chew, especially when my marriage broke up. Dad and I had five good years together until he slipped into the last three twilight years when he didn’t know who I was.
My beloved father died more than twenty years ago, but the satisfaction of knowing he was in safe hands for his years with me, that his surroundings were pleasing to him, and that he knew he was loved, has always given me a feeling of personal pride and accomplishment.
I see it as an accomplishment that I was able to do this. Distance was an issue. I had married a man from another country and gone to live there. Habit was an issue. Dad had lived in the same house for forty-five years and to move would require a major upheaval. Resistance from my money-grubbing brother would be an issue. He thought I wanted to kidnap the “golden goose”. He’d become used to our generous father propping up his failing businesses and was concerned that the move would take too much of Dad’s money away from him.
Money is often the cause of family tension. In this case it destroyed my relationship with my brother. His disrespect for my motives was too much for me, and my desire to look after Dad was too much for my selfish brother.
Anything worthwhile often provides challenges. I overcame these obstacles with patience and determination. My dear father had never been on a plane before, but at the age of eighty he boarded one and came to where I was living, to be with me and my husband. He brought his dog and cat, his music and books, his photography gear and some paintings.
We had rearranged our home and made it warmer and safer for an elderly person, providing him with privacy and access to share in our activities. Mum had died when I was a teenager and Dad had never re-partnered. I’d been away globe-trotting for a while and he’d been lonely for many years, so having company was a pleasure for him.
Dad was already suffering from Parkinson’s disease and the onset of Alzheimer’s disease; it was just as well he came when he did. I am sure my brother would not have provided such a caring atmosphere as we were able to offer Dad.
Yes it was difficult. Yes, there were times when I thought I’d bitten off more than I could chew, especially when my marriage broke up. Dad and I had five good years together until he slipped into the last three twilight years when he didn’t know who I was.
My beloved father died more than twenty years ago, but the satisfaction of knowing he was in safe hands for his years with me, that his surroundings were pleasing to him, and that he knew he was loved, has always given me a feeling of personal pride and accomplishment.
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Writing Prompt Write a 100 - 500 word autobiography concerning your biggest dream. Write about something you've always wanted to do but haven't done yet. Or share an accomplishment you've already made that you're most proud of. If you'd prefer, you may write a biography about someone else you're proud of instead. |
Your Biggest Dream Contest Winner |
 Recognized |
Author's Note:
Photo shows my father with me about 30 years ago.
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Photo shows my father with me about 30 years ago.
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