Going Around in Circles

Was feeling pretty dejected yesterday. Talked to dad about moving in the afternoon, and he seemed warmed up to the idea. Went over there to go over the tickets with him.

No.

Oh, not this again!

No tickets. Too soon. Feeling panicked. And on it went.

Again, it's so hard to put head down and focus and trust that I've made the right decision, when he's there asking the same questions I asked myself months ago, and settled.
Dad, it's time. We've been waiting on doctors for so long. We have a window of opportunity to move, get you set up in care, and move on to the next level of medical attention that you need.

Hrumpf.

Now, dad has asked me to look out for his best interests. We have legal paperwork and all. However, when it comes to family, you always resort back to your original role. Father. Daughter. Provider. Recipient. How do you reverse that role? With great difficulty, if not impossible. Dad always made the decisions for our family. Now that he's in the position of recipient of the decision, he's making it entirely impossible. Everything is questioned, every decision is fought against. It feels like twice the battle. I always feel like I'm getting my own way - which was always the battle cry when I was younger. 'Donna is getting her own way again.' as my friend pointed out... I'm getting done what needs to be done. If I wanted my own way, I'd be on a little South Pacific tour on his dime. (Sounds good to me. It's still an option...)

I should be sensitive to his needs and concerns, and that he'll be soon saying a lot of goodbyes. I'm just dealing with my own concerns; leaving all that I know behind for the promise of the unknown. Seems a bit ridiculous. My brain has fired off into 50 different directions ... him adding worries at the last minute is overload. Then again, I'm just remembering, that's what men do!! (Ah - the beauty of writing - revelation!) Women think things out ahead of time .... ie camping. Lists are written, shopping done, items packed. Man comes along at last minute... oh duh, the oil needs changing... I'll do that right now. Woman comes out of house, bags packed, everything ready to go... only to find the car ripped apart, mid-repair. Here she'd envisioned an early start, stopping for a relaxing coffee along the way. Now it's another hour or two wait while he gets it together. Ah.

So I've got this all organized in my head, on pieces of paper, movers, auctions all lined up to take care of everything. Dad comes in at the end and decides that maybe he should get involved. But I was organized! I had it taken care of. Now you've got me second guessing myself. This is benefitting no one.