In speaking with them I determined that they were in an odd dual position. They could not stop him from leaving, but if he did leave they might have to call social services, especially if he did not return. If he took mom, they would have to call social services right away.
On the other hand, their experience also said that even if he managed to call a taxi, the driver might be unwilling to take him from an assisted living facility as taxis have regulations governing such situations.
Later that evening, my husband listened to all that and recommended I ask the facility to do one particular thing in terms of taxi calling. Since they could not actively prevent him, I asked them to not help him in anyway. He had to find the number, call it, relay his current address, etc. They thought this was a good plan.
Because I was fairly stressed about all this, staff accompanied me down the hall to their room and while that person could not stay to talk with my parents, they arranged for a staff member who was on their way back from lunch to check in with us.
When we arrived at their door, just as I began to let myself in, the door was opened. There was my dad pushing my mom in her wheelchair. "We are leaving."
I entered and returned them to their chairs and asked if we could wait for the staff folks to appear. I also texted my brother, and he was available if needed.
In the meantime I put away clothing and put the box of books I had brought on the bottom shelf of the bookcase.
My dad was not tolerating waiting well and continue to fume about leaving. After fifteen to twenty minutes of waiting, I called my brother and we began on our own.
"We want to go home. We don't like here. It is a prison. No one likes it here. No one wants to be here."
When I asked about all the happy people I saw, my Dad told me they were paid staff of course they were happy. When I asked about the clients including the ones they ate with now for four meals, he blinked at me and had nothing to say.
As we advanced into the conversation, he told my brother that I had wanted them to be moved into a place and out of their house for a long time. When my brother asked him why I wanted that, he didn't know; I just did.
When we asked about mom's care he told us that they could arrange that from home. When I pointed out their beds were here at the Garden, and the guest bed was too high for my mom to get into, he told me they'd stay in a hotel.
He also argued that he needed things from their home that he could not make a list for me to get. He must go there to see what he needed. My brother started to go along with him on this, but I gently told them both that there were legal issues that I could get into trouble about with social services if we did that.
We managed to convince them to stay put until Saturday when we would both be there to have lunch with them.
I also left Dad telling him that if they really wanted to go home, I would go along with it and not fight if he did two things:
- arrange for a mover to take their things back to the house on the check out day
- call several in home services and set up interviews at the Garden with them. I would be happy to attend.
I wrote these on a tablet of paper which I left for him.
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