Reva was excellent with details. Logistics of any kind. It was time to live with her dad while they sorted things out. If something happened to him, she’d never forgive herself for not being there or having someone in his home all day and all night. The red flags were everywhere, whipping up in her daydreams.
Reva had accumulated over four months of personal leave and used most of it to get her through June. She hired a friend’s niece to deal with the condo. She’d rent it out on Airbnb, locking her bedroom door and keeping everything valuable in that one room. The real trouble wasn’t the details. What she always struggled with was accepting the reality of the situation: her lovely and lonely old father couldn’t be left alone anymore.
He needed to be taken care of. He needed around-the-clock help or a well-organized and clean facility, with enough space for him not to go stir crazy. Reva checked out a few places. They were way more expensive than she thought, and the waiting lists were over 15 months at the nicer ones. Maybe Reva could arrange 24-hour care in the house. Maybe Ako and her daughter could move in? Maybe Becca and Neve could help for a month here and there. There seemed to be endless dominoes, a game neither she nor Jules had ever played.
Would they have to sell that beautiful house? The one she and Becca had talked about keeping permanently? She had to figure out her dad’s financial situation and then have Seamus sit with them to help persuade her dad he needed to move. First, she’d live with him. Take care of him as he’d taken care of her. Just the two of them, like her high school years.
Reva sat in her car, about to go into Tina’s office. Her weekly meeting. She walked into Tina’s office, so full of questions, she tripped over the edge of the rug, and spilled her coffee. The other patient in the chair beside her gasped. Reva found her glasses and placed them back on her nose. She picked up the mostly spilled coffee cup, dabbed the spot with a few tissues and fixed her lavender leisure suit and ran her hands calmly through her long hair.
Tina had been at her open door, with a slight grimace and her owl eyes. Reva walked through the door, shaking her head as if to delete that moment, and sat down in the lumpy chair. Tina walked her through a short “settling in” moment of breathing and noticing how her body existed, from her feet all the way up to the top of her head, sitting in the chair.
Reva began: “My dad got lost on a walk. It’s been getting worse. I have to move out to Santa Barbara for at least a few months. I’m putting my life on pause.”
Tina nodded, eyebrows only slightly raised. “Those are big changes.”
Reva laughed. “Huge. We’ll drive each other nuts after about two weeks. Any suggestions on how I can keep myself from losing it?”
Tina nodded slowly again. “Close your eyes, Reva.”
Tina repeated. “Close them.” Reva closed one eye and stared cartoonishly at Tina.
Tina chuckled. “You sneaky devil. Close both of your eyes.”
Reva squeezed her open eye shut.
Tina leaned back in her own chair. “I want you to imagine moving in with your old dad. Describe the worst possible situation living with your dad. We’ll say you’ve been there for two weeks. What has happened?”
Reva laughed maniacally. “He’s screamed at me every night. He’s stopped sleeping. I’ve been criticized for everything I’ve done. I’ve been accused of stealing things from him. I’ve had no time to myself. I’ve not been able to exercise, because I can’t leave him alone. He just wants to watch movies and he keeps forgetting things.”
Tina let the silence sit. “And…?”
Reva shouted, “And what!”
Tina replied flatly, “Yelling at me won’t help you figure this out. And how will you protect yourself from all of this? How will you strengthen your capacity to take it all in? Jules’ decay. His mind turning to soup. His eventual death. The fact you’ll become an orphan. Both of your parents will be gone. How will you help yourself accept this?”
Reva was silent. She took a few elongated and slow breaths. Her exhale was shaky. She hated crying. It was a rare occurrence in her adult life. Most of the crying happened in childhood and during her teenage years. After that, she made other people cry instead.
“Yes. My dear old dad. Down to my core… where I can return… who understands my fucked up ways…” Reva began to notice her cheeks growing hot. Tears formed at the corner of her eyes. She hated herself for beginning to cry but knew she needed to. She had once thought of tears as riders of waterslides. The drops forming at the corner of the eyelids were waiting for the okay to descend. Reva was sobbing now. Her eye-liner was smudging. She took a tissue from the box on the table and dried her eyes. She attempted to slow her breathing again.
Tina spoke with unmistakable clarity.
“He’s changing. We’re always changing. All of us. You know, I’ve never been constipated my whole life. Now, at 66, I’m constipated. Have to drink prune juice in the mornings.”
Reva looked up and smiled at Tina, eyes still wet with tears.
“He’s still in there. Just a bit harder to locate. Rougher around the edges I’m sure.” Tina paused. Would you want to continue our sessions? Phone appointments?” Tina asked.
“Yes. I do. But that’s six a.m. in Santa Barbara,” Reva said.
“You’ll have to make your coffee early then.” Tina responded.
The rest of the session, Reva discussed her thoughts and feelings around work. Leaving the superintendent’s role through July, she’d have to delegate most of the work to her assistant Macy, who was young and often overwhelmed. Reva knew she’d be on Zoom with Macy from Santa Barbara despite the leave. Reva wondered if the assistant could work with Tina, too. Life had been so dominated by work since taking this role.
“Maybe Santa Barbara will be a healthy change for you, Reva. Despite the circumstances.” Tina said.
“I’ll get to see Becca more often again, and Neve, if she can make it up from Tucson. I’ve missed them like crazy,” Reva added.