My brother ranks high in the list of world’s greatest procrastinators. He has thought about attending meetings of Procrastinators Anonymous, but they keep putting off having a meeting.
Two weeks ago, he called to give us an update on our father’s condition. We had a conference call so that Ron, his wife, and I could all listen in. At the time, he shared the news about his venture over to dad’s house to get something and found people in the house. They presumably were given permission to crash there by our father. Kevin, I believe had them leave, but then again, Kevin is not the assertive one in the family. He is a chip off of our father, I am more like our mother.
My immediate reaction was to get the locks changed and he agreed. There are three entrances to the house. One will only get you into the front porch, another into the basement, and the third into the outer pantry leading to the backyard. After entering any of these areas, there is still another door to negotiate before entering living space. All six doors have locks on them. Our mother was paranoid. Our father used to work nights. Changing locks can be expensive, but hey, the old guy has $40,000 he needs to spend down to be eligible just to apply for Medicaid. Kevin has the power of attorney to access his funds. No brainer.
Off of the dining room, there is a wasted little room that never was declared utilitarian because is lacked a radiator or heating vent. The whole time we were growing up, the old chest freezer lived in there and the rest of the space was a throw-all junk room. When we moved our things from CA, this was cleaned out and stores our life belongings, minus all of the furniture we sold. Mostly, it has our kitchen appliances, china, thousands of books, and memorabilia from dozens of trips abroad. Our thinking at the time was after a year away, at least our kitchen will not need to be restocked with essentials. The padlock on the door survived seven years of having the scheming slut whore who stole thousands from dad during her days of leeching off of him. Kevin said the door was barricade with the china cabinet, a formidable piece of furniture.
At the end of the call, we all agreed to speak each Wednesday for updates on dad’s condition. We were still waiting for the neurological report due the day after this call.
The next Wednesday, I e-mailed Kevin about calling. He responded with “Nothing has changed, no need to call.” Nothing about the report and a follow-up e-mail was not responded to. The following Wednesday, I wrote again, but did not get a response until that Friday.
Giving him his due, he is a manager at an IT company, from what I gather is head of an extensive team, so does have a lot on his plate. Adding the needs of our father is a burden that he has to deal with with little help from me.