It has been over a year since I last posted. You would be forgiven for thinking something drastic had happened and one of us was languishing in a wheelchair being taunted by the other.
Alas we are not recreating a fabulous 1960s film. But there is a dynamic of the film at play. More on that later.
Concerned for our carbon footprint, Glen and I started looking at ways to downsize from the large home we were renting in Keswick. We entertained living in a tiny house but discovered we could buy one but wouldn't be able to park it anywhere. We considered buying a small house near the lake but the only properties in our price range were an even further commute from Richmond Hill, defeating the purpose of shrinking our footprint.
We suddenly realized we were going in the wrong direction. If we were willing to keep renting, we could find an affordable place to live in Richmond Hill. The prospect of next to no commute was made even more appealing when I hit a patch of black ice on the way home one Sunday and landed in the median of the 404. Fortunately all that was damaged was the front grill of my car, along with my pride. So we started looking at properties and found a really cute older 1 1/2 story home within walking distance of the church.
As you can see below, we are really talking walking distance.
So what does this have to do with a classic Bette Davis/Joan Crawford pairing? Well no sooner did we sign the lease than I received a call from a friend of my dad. She was frantic. He was exhibiting signs of delirium. Could I come up to Orillia right away? Unfortunately we were in Toronto when she called but once Glen wrapped up his acting class I drove up to Orillia via Keswick where I dropped off Glen and grabbed an overnight bag. When I arrived at the hospital I understood the reason for the panic. My dad was making little sense. He was unsure of when it was or what was going on. He was assessed in the ER and eventually sent up to a ward. At the end of a couple of weeks during which my brother and I pinch hit and my sister flew in for a spell, my dad was diagnosed with vascular dementia and unable to live by himself without additional support. We has just rented a house with a finished basement including a standalone bathroom and bedroom. And so at the beginning of June my dad became our roomie.
Fortunately I have a very loving spouse who has accepted this new situation like a trooper. My dad is doing fairly well although he is fuzzier when he is tired. I often need to repeat things and he can get stuck on thoughts, often replaying situations from his past and retelling the story often. But as he shared with me in a moment of great clarity he needed someone who would be able to carry his memories on after he is gone. So I listen, try to pick up new details, and to the best of my ability not get TOO frustrated. There are days, of course, when it is hard. But as Glen said when I asked him about dad moving in, "We knew this was going to be the situation sooner or later when we decided to move. It's just sooner rather than later."
So that's what's happened to James and Glen - and Dad.
