Bad enough that My Fucking Father once again leaves me to do the detail work for him: "Oh, this isn't my job, you do this for me, son." I am now complicit in helping put away Grandmother. I should stall, but my further foot-dragging would only make both of my parents question why I'm not helping her ... which could -- could -- put my stay at home in jeopardy as well. So like a coward I called and gave the info. But only after hours, so as not to talk to her directly. That totally makes a difference.
The worst thing about all this is Grandmother doesn't suspect a thing. I don't know how to tell her, "They're about to send you to a nursing home away from here to die" in Chinese. All she did yesterday was eat and talk to her friends. She's harmless. Why send her away? Father called Grandmother up at home; he didn't tell her what's up, and she still doesn't know. Man, we are being so goddamn cruel to her right now.
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My protestation came in the form of a meeping cry for help after half an hour of to-do list items for my parents. Mother came up and asked for the doctor information; man, they really want her to go, don't they?
Mother's words (paraphrasing; I've got bad memory) are in italics:
"If you want to throw her out of the house, why don't you throw her out of the house now?"
"Who's going to take care of her? You?"
"She's fine. Just because she's old doesn't mean she needs to go to a nursing home."
"It's a good place. There's 24/7 nurses there and everything."
"It's not home." (Here I bitched out and change the subject) "I haven't looked at this place yet."
"It's really nice. Much better than the one the nurse recommended."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
And there I dropped the conversation.
After decades of taking care of me, Grandmother deserves better.
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Things are so fluid with this. The news is so bad, for Grandmother as well as (selfishly) me that I'm still trying to process this. Will keep you posted.
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