American Heritage Dictionary defines Guilt as Self-reproach for supposed inadequacy or wrongdoing.

Welcome to my world.

I recently got to see my dad for the first time in a few weeks, the traveling schedule and my responsibilities to my clients has made a quick jaunt to Cincinnati more difficult.

Not impossible mind you, but more difficult. And therein lies the beginning of the guilt.

I was brought up in a family where guilt was served as one of the courses at dinner, right after the main course and just before dessert. However nothing has prepared me for “now”. Mom was good on the guilt-front, but even on her best day could she couldn’t compare to how I feel through no fault of anyone… including me.

Dad is doing great. He seems happy most of the time. He isn’t in a lot of pain most of the time. He has his adorable wit and charm, except when he is sleepy and doesn’t want to wake up in the morning. I told the nurses if he complains in the morning again they should poke him with his cane. If he grunts he is fine. I also told them they could poke him three times before calling for help. I love having Power of Attorney!

His demeanor is pretty good, although he does fly off the handle a little bit more these days. Whether age, health, pain, or all of the above, he has great days, and he has not so great ones. So far the pendulum is on the good side of that scale. But I get called either way.

Last week I set up a bank account for my dad in his nursing home. That’s right, the fine folks at 5th 3rd bank have a branch in Cedar Village that is open two days a week. He often needs spending cash, and this seemed the most convenient way for him to get to it, without him (and me) worrying about losing it somewhere in the halls.

I also filled out some paperwork related to repairs on his wheelchair which may or may not be covered by insurance. Bills for the cell phone, for the newspaper, for his VA life insurance, and for his room and board all got paid as they do on a monthly basis.

This week I am dealing with the State (yes, big “S”) and a tax they say my dad owes from 2002. Everyone agrees the business in question ended in 2001, but a piece of paper that should have been sent to the State wasn’t and what would have been a $50 fee is now $650 in penalties and interest. I know. Nasty. But better than the $3,600 demanded when I received the first letter from the State in early 2007. And this time the letter from the State came threatening a tax lien against my dad. I had to laugh at that one. My dad was “leaning” so much that he wound up in a wheelchair full time. However we’re making progress. Another fax, another 35 minutes on hold, another request for my mom’s death certificate and my POA. Another wait.

I’m also dealing with a company that is asking about a bill from a hospital back when he was in his original nursing home in 2006. This is a company that “weeds out fraud and wasteful spending”, at least that is what it said in the investigation letter they sent me. After speaking to two people, it seems the agency is partially paid based on the fees it is able to force back onto the patients or deflect from the insurance company paying their fee. I did have to explain to both “Jim” and “Joyce” that having POA does not make me financially responsible for the debts of my father. I can quote you chapter and verse on that one.

Now please don’t get me wrong. I am so thankful that dad is still around for me to see. I would deal with a thousand times more crap if he gave me another thousand days.

My lunch with my dad and my older brother on Saturday was a lot of fun. Going shopping to pick up water, pop, and his various tooth lotions, potions, and bonding adhesives didn’t feel like a chore. Even knowing that I was only spending a few hours with him didn’t distract me (too much) from listening to his stories of the nurses, other patients, and the friends of his that still see him on a regular basis.

But there is a lot of guilt to go around. I feel guilty that my dad lives in a”one room apartment” and not something swankier. I feel guilty that he dislikes the food. I feel guilty he is still waiting for his new glasses after his eye doctor got the prescription wrong the first time. How hard is “coke bottle” to fill in an Rx?

I feel guilty that he won’t be seeing my son graduate from college in two weeks, I feel guilty that he can’t go to my mom’s grave next Monday on her birthday. I feel guilty I can’t do more, and I feel guilty that I sometimes want to do less.

However each time I let that feeling creep in, I get another reminder of guile, what Wordnet, published by Princeton University defines as; 1) shrewdness, as demonstrated by being skilled in deception, 2) the quality of being crafty, and 3) the use of tricks to deceive someone, usually to extract money from them. Whether another insurance company, health care organization, doctor’s office, State agency, credit card company, telemarketer or other would-be shake-up artist, thier guile keeps me going.

I know the things I feel guilty about regarding my dad stem from a lack of perceived control over his situation, an inability to change the situation. Remember, part of the definition of guilt is supposed inadequacy. I do what I can, but no child wants to see their parents (or children) suffer hardships in life. These are things I can’t fit. But other people’s guile? Now there is something I can take care of.