Grounded at Seventy-Six is Chapter Five of Rosie John Doesn't Live Here Any More, One Family's Journey in Eldercare, Written by Tom Begert-Clark. To read the entire book, please see Even as We Speak
For months Sandie and I had growing concerns over Dad's ability to continue to drive. Dad was forgetting simple directions and routes that he had driven for years. His ability to drive in traffic or to park the car appropriately at the mall was totally compromised as his judgment and perception dulled.
Mom and Dad lived three miles from the church where they were charter members. They weekly attended choir rehearsals, Bible studies, the men and women's groups and missed very few Sunday services. The church had been not only their spiritual community but the center of their social world as well.
They got their groceries at the same store for thirty years. They could tell you what items were in what aisle. The store was only two miles from their home and they ventured often to make sure the family food pantry was full.
At the onset of Dad's dementia Mom would, as often as possible, acompany him on his normal daily trips to get gas, pick up a loaf of bread or stop by the church. "I'll go along for the ride," she'd say to Dad, always reassuring us that everything was okay because she was with him. But there were those occasions when Dad would simply take the car without informing Mom. Dad loved his car. A 1984 white Oldsmobile with a mere 40,000 miles traveled. He cared for that car as if it were a living being. He washed the car so often that we swore he was going to wash the paint right off its out-of-date chassis. Dad didn't care how cold it was. He would take out his bucket of warm soapy water and sponge in the early morning. If the sun was shining he was going to give his pride and joy a bath. As he would begin to was the car, the water would literally freeze to the metal. One would think this would have deterred him. Not Dad.
It just made him all the more determined to clean his car, but quickly. When Mom or one of us would sarcastically comment that Dad was just a bit over fixated with the cleanliness of his ride, he always had his pat response, "God wants us to take care of the things He has given us."
"But Dad," I would say - "I don't think God would mind if you skipped the days when the temperature falls below thirty degrees!"
"Feel free to take that to the Lord in prayer!" he would reply. "It certainly would make my job a little easier."
Soon enough, the day that we dreaded had arrived. It was time for Dad to surrender his car keys. Our first chore was to convince Mom of our decision. We firmly and boldly sat Mom down to tell her of our concerns and our action plan. She was aghast.
"I can't do that! It will kill him! You know how much he likes to drive."
Over Mom's objections, Sandie and I knew the keys had to go. If Mom couldn't do it, we would have to.
Dad was scheduled to be hospitalized for a short stay so his medical team could conduct their annual health evaluations. "Perfect," we thought. "We'll make the doctor tell him!" Dad's generation believes everything a physician says. They wouldn't think twice about doubting a doctor's order because they are figures of authority. Yes, even the best of caregivers can become chicken and look for the easy way out. Having difficulty making decisions, taking action? Play the doctor card or get some other authority figure (priest, pastor, rabbi, attorney) to do it for you ... it's great! The decision is delivered by a neutral party and it's not your fault. It's flawless!
We phoned the doctor's office and explained our dilemma and the doctor agreed to be an accomplice to our plan. Much to everyone's surprise and relief, Dad took it pretty well. He handed his keys over to me as the doctor looked on.
"The doctor knows best," he said. "You know what this means, though, don't you? Your mother will have to drive everywhere now."
There was a brief pause.
"Have you ever ridden with your mother? We're going to be killed."
About two months after confiscating Dad's keys, I received a phone call from Mom.
"Hi Mom. What's up?"
"I haven't slept all night! That's what's up!"
"What's wrong?"
"You're going to be very angry with me. Your father took the keys off the dresser and went for an hour-and-a-half joy ride yesterday."
"What?"
"Oh, don't worry he's fine. He didn't get lost and he's home safe." I sensed sarcasm in her tone. "I'm the one!"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you know that pound of chocolates you gave me last month?"
"Yes."
"You remember that I agreed to eating only one piece a day?"
"Yes."
"Well, with all the stress yesterday I totally lost it ... Continue Reading
About the Author: Tom Begert-Clark has been involved in working and assisting the senior population for over 25 years as a Senior Pastor, Licensed Pastoral Counselor, HUD Service Coordinator and Senior Housing Specialist, Developer and Director of SCOPE Adult Day Care Center, Director of Franchise Support for SarahCare® Adult Day Services, Inc. and is currently the President of Even As We Speak®.
