Two ugly feet and a guilty conscience

I head down the hall towards the kitchen and see two ugly feet. They are my father-in-law’s feet. Because of the layout of the living room and where he lounges on a cushion on the floor, his body is blocked by the counter. All I see are his feet – no body, just feet.

I work from home and see these feet whenever I leave my desk. They irritate me. They are clean and all the toe nails are in good condition. They are good feet. There is no reason why these feet should bother me so, but they do.

My father-in-law struggles with Alzheimer’s. Though he is still capable of dressing, bathing and eating by himself, finding something to do besides watching TV is a challenge. A year ago we moved him to the city and away from the farm where he lived all of his adult life and where he easily kept himself busy all day.

Seeing his feet brings up an inner dialogue of shoulds…

…He has nothing to do. I should help him find something.

…He worked hard all his life and has the right to sit and watch TV all day if he wants. I should leave him be.

…If he doesn’t get up and move around, his muscles will waste away and then walking will become difficult. I should encourage him to get up and move.

…I should hide the bread for his lunch and ask him to go to the corner store and buy more so he is forced to get out.

…I should sit and chat with him for a few minutes. Engage him.

…I should find a new chore for him to do.

…He is napping. He is not complaining. I should get back to work.

I realize it is not my responsibility to entertain him all day. Still, it pains me to see those feet because they scream of boredom. This is an animated man who shines when it is his turn to talk. If you give him the opportunity, he will talk non-stop for 2 hours or more. I know. I have tested this.

Two feet. One bored man. One guilty daughter-in-law.

The new care manager is coming on Monday. Perhaps he will have a solution for those two ugly feet…