Hi. I am back from Florida, actually I have been back for a week. But, with Thanksgiving and the emotional turmoil I was in, I haven't been online since then really. So, here I am now. I warn you this may get a little wordy, I will try to keep it shortish.
First off, thank you to all of you that were praying for me or just thinking nice thoughts for me. I was nowhere near prepared for what I was in store for. Oh, and before I forget...Corri, this is for you.
See? I really do still have a dog. A dog who, for some reason, really doesn't like having his picture taken, so he always looks so sad or put out in photos. Meh.
Okay. So. Back to Florida. As I said, I was nowhere near prepared for what was there. My brother tried to warn me, he told me that I should be prepared to be overwhelmed. But overwhelmed is an understatement. I mean I knew his house would be a mess, but I had no idea that it would be in shambles. Squalor is what came to mind while I was there. Everything. Literally everything was covered in some form of garbage. The counters, the couch, the foyer floor, the dressers, the stove!, the tables, everything. Mostly paper garbage. Newspapers. Junk mail. Copies of things. Calendars from years and years and years ago. Old plastic food containers were stacked up waiting to be taken out to the recycling bin. My dad, he has good intentions. Unfortunately, he also has procrastination down to an art form. I could show you pictures, but it really doesn't give the feeling of what it was like to actually be there, knowing that this is how your father was living ten months out of the year. That and you can't smell the smell that was in his house. It smelled like basement. Years and years of dust and who only knows what else.
There were seven dead cockroaches in the guest bedroom alone. Seven. Dead. Do you know how hard it is to kill a cockroach? It's hard.
Needless to say, I was completely overwhelmed. I cried. Actually, I wept. I wept at the mess and how insurmountable it seemed. I wept at how depressing the air was in there. I wept about how alone I felt. But mostly? I wept for my dad. For the realization that he had been living in squalor for I don't even know how long. The last time I was there was eight years ago. And for the realization that there were so many more layers to his condition than I was aware of. Yes he has memory loss. And yes, it may be a form of dementia. But that house? That is a result of a deep deep depression. Nobody should live that way. Nobody. Especially someone who has family that cares about him. Especially my dad. And I was ashamed that I didn't do something about this sooner. That we didn't make it a point to go down to Florida to check out his living conditions when we first brought up his memory problem to him two years ago. I was ashamed and sorry and embarrassed.
All of those emotions and thoughts? That was just the first five minutes. Before going down, I had gotten in touch with his neighbor who happened to be a Realtor. She was extremely helpful! She set up to have a woman and her children come help me clean the house out. She came, was overwhelmed and told me she would come back the next day and work from 7am to 7pm with her children. And then she told me what to go buy for her. Which I did, right away. Upon returning to the house I set out to start the clean up. In a matter of minutes I had filled three 42 gallon construction strength garbage bags full of junk. Most of it I had to do when my dad was distracted. Because if he saw what I was throwing away, he would give me some reason why he wanted to keep it. It just wasn't healthy. So, I stopped after finding about $300 in coins sitting under a pile of garbage on his master bedroom sink and packing them up. And then I had to tell him that I couldn't stay there, that we had to go find a hotel. Do you know how hard that is? To tell your dad that you are uncomfortable staying at his house for the night? I felt awful! But I knew that if I stayed there, I wouldn't sleep and I would be even more miserable the next day. He was understanding.
Day number two was a whirlwind. We had to race to his house to meet the cleaners, who immediately got to work. They were amazing! I then realized that they wouldn't be able to do their jobs with my dad lurking around telling them to leave piles of junk laying around so that he can "get to them later." You see? Art form.
We go out to have breakfast. I blow my top at my dad. That sucked. I weep again. I tell him I'm sorry, but that he has to understand that he most likely is suffering from depression and that he needs to change his habits. Now. He says okay, but only to shut me up I think. After breakfast, we come back to check on the progress of the house and to see if they need anything more. Yes. They need more garbage bags! And bottled water. So, out we go again. Drop off the bags, and my dad tries to start his car. A car which he insists is a good car, and wants to have moved up here. It doesn't start. We can't get the gas cap off to even put gas in. I look in the car to see if I can figure it out and almost wretch at the smell. It's disgusting! The seats are/were leather and they are all cracked and ripped with the stuffing coming out. The driver's side door is black from oil and dirt and it just plain stinks. The neighbors come over to try and jump it...nope. She suggests we go to the beach or to the outlet mall to pass the time. My dad picks the mall.
We return when it is starting to get dark, and the cleaning is still going strong. But it looks amazing! And the smell? Gone! It smells clean, and I can see the floor and the counter tops and oh my goodness...what is that on the counter in my dad's bathroom? I go and find Sonia, and ask her if it is dead or alive. It's alive. A cockroach. She then tells me that my dad? He has no running water in his master bath! Excuse me? Yep! That's right! No running water in the master bath. And my dad knew about this for years. So, guess where all the cockroaches were coming from? *sigh* I now realize just how deep the filth is, and how unhealthy it is for my dad to be there.
So, now I have to tell him again that we are staying at a hotel. Oh, and also? I changed our flights to leave tomorrow instead of having another day. So, dad, all those things that you thought we were going to be able to get done tomorrow? Yeah, we can't. Because I need to get you away from your home. Because it is literally killing you.
Yeah. That was fun. Somewhere in there, the day is all a blur right now, we were able to get his house on the market. So, we actually accomplished what we set out to do. His house is 90% clean, on the market as a handyman special, and he is now away from there.
As awful as the whole experience was there were a lot of light points to it. As I said, his neighbor and Realtor was a tremendous help and made me feel not quite so alone. The cleaning woman and her children were wonderful and understanding and extremely efficient. And mostly, I was totally and completely affirmed that his living with us is what needs to happen. I know it's going to be hard. It already is. I know it's going to be thankless, at least on this side of Heaven. But now I know that I know that I know that it's the right thing. That makes the whole thing worth it.
If you are still reading this...wow. Thank you. For your efforts, here are a couple of happy pictures of the girl and boy taken today with my phone.
Things should start returning to normal here soon. Whatever that means. Stay tuned!
