It's 8 p.m. I'm running quickly to the store. I need cooking utensils to make my first homemade dinner in a new place.
My plan is to roast chicken in a new Dutch oven. A few weeks ago, I wouldn't have believed that I would have my own apartment. I hoped to become independent again, and my father knew that.
He took advantage of this fact, and our relationship deteriorated because I wrongly thought that our relationship had no other choice but to live with him and follow his rules. At the age of 56, I proved him wrong.
Of course, I love my dad. My parents adopted me when I was 6 months old, and I owe them my life. But I don't owe them my sanity. I had to do "work" to maintain my sanity. Let me tell you how this happened. This is a story about beliefs, harassment, boundaries, and courage.
Beliefs
You grew up with the belief that as your parents age, you must take care of them. When my mother's grandfather passed away, my father, who was building a new house at the time, included a mother-in-law suite behind our house. Grandma lived with us and made significant contributions to our family until she passed away.
Having grandma at home was a blessing because she was a source of calm and steady strength in my parents' rocky marriage. Previous generations of our family also lived with elders. Culturally, this living situation was not uncommon in our neighborhood. I thought everyone lived like this. That belief led me down a painful path.
In 2019, my father fell ill and was hospitalized for 4 months with congestive heart failure, kidney disease, colon cancer, pulmonary edema, and hypertension. My brother and I doubted he would survive, and we began to make the worst plans. Miraculously, a few months after being in a rehab hospital, my dad insisted on coming home, and I volunteered to live with him during that time.