Where There’s Smoke…
There’s fire. Scary, big, rapid-spreading flames. It happened to my dad on Monday. His place of residence caught fire while he was out with his dog (thank goodness he was out with his dog). He came home to this:
April 23:
ACK! No one wants to come home to that. Everything he owned except his van, his dog, the clothes on his back, gone. His poor cockatiel Ricky, his companion of 17 years, gone. Dad didn’t plan well for retirement. He’s only 65, actually, so that reality had been slowly sinking in. He has been out of work and adjusting to living on a fixed income.
And now this. He didn’t own the house or have renter’s insurance, so… heavy loss. But thank goodness it wasn’t heavier, his dog or his own life. My dad feels gutted and destroyed, but lucky and thankful all at once. Depression is setting in. The cause of fire? It’s still not determined for certain, but it seems to be electrical, having to do with an extension cord (beware extension cords).
My family is all in the area. We were all on the phone, all day. My mother, my sisters. What are we going to do about Dad? My mother divorced him many years ago and has remarried, but she’s still friendly with my dad. We have family holidays all together. She cares about him. She mentioned that he could move in with my 94 year old grandfather.
That seemed to have promise, at first. Promise for the rest of us, maybe. Papa won’t be alone, and Dad will have a place to live! But then we considered it would be taking advantage of my grandfather’s extremely good nature, and probably not the best idea. My grandfather manages fine on his own and has earned the peaceful solitude he prefers. My dad is a big boisterous sort of man who doesn’t exactly go unnoticed. It would have been like the odd couple, which had potential from a writer’s perspective, but… no.
My younger sister still lives with my mom. My older sister has a house just big enough for her family. I bought a house last year that has an attached apartment, which is great for guests and, you know, if we ever need to have room for a parent to come live with us as they get older or need assistance… OH. Oh yeah. Tuesday night, my dad stayed with his girlfriend, if you can call her that. I can’t quite pin down their relationship, but it’s odd and blows up often enough that long-term cohabitation is probably not in the cards.
On Wednesday, he came to stay with me. It started as chaos, with our dogs not getting along, then became more like a visit, with me trying to be a good hostess and my dad testing his boundaries as guest. My husband has been away on business all this time and will come home to a more full house. We’ll all adjust, I suppose. That’s what happens, right? I’m not sure how long my dad will need a place to stay. I know it won’t be easy to find affordable housing that accepts big dogs. So my future is this, my dad living with me. With us. My husband comes home tonight. My daughter comes home from college for the summer for a few weeks, and my son has been home on a break from college to figure things out. Full House.
Do you have a good emergency plan in place? Are you looking after an older parent, or has someone come to live with you unexpectedly? Anyone have any advice for coping and making this work?
Share this:
