Where have I been this past year?

Why is there a gap in my writing resume?

I was sharing the burden of caretaking full-time for my father-in-law, who has Lewy Body Dementia and Parkinson’s Disease, alongside raising my two sons and fitting in whatever work I could manage to squeeze in between. For a moment, it just felt like being on house arrest and babysitting a giant, entitled toddler that would hurl insults your way at unpredictable moments, or have the most ridiculous and impossible demands right then and there, fits of rage out of left field, or make your world pure hell for an undetermined amount of time for not complying with whatever delusion he was living in. Stay tuned; there will be a piece about how we are navigating the healthcare and legal system here, with a giant mess to straighten out as Americans living in Italy.

My heart sincerely goes out to anyone out there who has had to take care of a parent in these conditions, especially if you have been estranged most of your adult life and that parent made poor life choices, and the burden completely lands on you because their life partner(s) (and daughter/stepdaughters) are selfish, money-hungry bitches (excuse my French; I did finally go to France, more on that later). I fully recommend support groups for people in your situation. I have made a long-term friend in these support groups, and they are going through the exact same thing. Unless you are living the same circumstances, you have NO CLUE what you are talking about. Respectfully, keep your opinions to yourself when entering a conversation with someone going through something this shitty.

When we had visitors from all over the globe come to see Grandpa, I took advantage and was able to get away for a few days here and there, while Sam held down the fort, or vice versa. Sam was also able to get away for work or artistic projects.

How we survived?!??!?! is the million-dollar question; I know for a fact Sam’s “sibling” or anyone else, for that matter, could not have endured what we were put through. We are still experiencing whiplash from the ordeal, or as professionals like to call it, PTSD.

Grandpa went to assisted living, but is the most complained-about patient in each facility that he has been to. He lasted 9 days in the first assisted living facility. At the second one, they wanted him out immediately, and now he is in one close to us, but they are already tired of how awful he is. We keep telling the professionals, “Look, he was exactly like that when he lived with us; it’s part of the disease!”

That is just to give you an idea of what my family had to endure for a year. If professionals can’t even deal with him, it gives you a tiny glimpse of the hell we were engulfed in. It is hard not to get angry at the situation when you know they wouldn’t do the same for you, but that is a story for another day. One freezing winter day, when we were evicted from our house due to the foundation being disturbed during an earthquake, Sam’s father and mother (divorced) said that we could not come stay with them; we had a 9-month-old baby. We lived in a hotel, our car, and with some republicans that Sam’s parents talk mad shit about, but at least they showed up… And were more grandparents than my in-laws will ever be in their lifetimes combined. So I KNOW without a shadow of a doubt they would never show up for us in a time of need, not to mention the time I found out I was pregnant; we were bombarded with horrible emails from Sam’s mother and father. Those will never be forgotten, and I will tell my children the truth about them.

One of my cousins on Sam’s side said, ” Well, why would you even tell your kids that their family was making ‘bad choices’? Just let them believe they were good grandparents”… WELL… Because doing the right thing should be rewarded, and being a shitty person should absolutely be called out, and they don’t deserve to be in your life, period!!!!!!

We are out from under it, but not far enough away yet.