Weird

Weird.

We always described my father as weird. You’d have to do things differently around him because he was weird. Things were difficult to do around him because he would ask questions that would stop the natural flow of activity. He would get bogged down in the details of directions.

When did it start? Who knows? There are myriad examples from my 58 years. When I was growing up, I remember mom cut the grass one day, but when my dad got home from work, he cut it again. There was nothing wrong with the way mom had cut it. It was as though my dad had to put his “stamp” on it. That’s the last time mom cut the grass. Why should she when he would “redo” it?

My folks were still using an aerial antenna in 2013 when I visited them one summer. I’d recently gotten satellite TV and wanted them to have it so they could get more TV channels. I arranged for a provider to come to their house but before I could tell my dad, the company called while I wasn’t there and my dad talked to them. So when I got home, he was very angry at me since I hadn’t told him my plans. It was as though it was an invasion of his home. How dare I plan for a stranger to wire his house for satellite? The gaul of me! This was before I knew he had dementia. My dad had been a telephone installer in his career and had wired many office buildings in Atlanta and prided himself on wiring the phone system in his own house.

When I was 54, I had some free time on my hands and I decided I was going to figure him out. I thought about his behavior objectively instead of just complaining when he got upset about something. With my new mindset, I just observed his behavior and tried to classify it. For example, wanting to pick me up at the airport instead of doing what I asked (which was to pick me up at the light-rail station closer to his house). “I’ll come pick you up at the airport. There’s no need for you to take the train.” I realized that this was controlling behavior.