My dad is in a long term care facility now. People refer to this at LTC. It is no real coincidence that this acronym is a jumble of TLC. Because it feels like a jumble of TLC. A confusion of how you want to love them.
I can hear the music in the lobby and I know I will find him there. The entertainment is here most afternoons. For a minute I hope to find him engaged and happy. The next moment, I hope to find him rolling his eyes and not suffering fools and finding the whole thing cheesy. That would be the dad I know.
I find him engaged in the way he can be. He is singing a little and smiling. He looks like he does not belong. Everyone is grey with crinkly skin and he looks handsome and elegant. They don’t look smart and funny. He does.
Everyone is clapping off key. There is not an ounce of vanity or self consciousness in the room. The singer is belting out “Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose”. Indeed.
For the first time ever he says to me when I go to leave “I don’t want you to go.”