- Fix him breakfast—check
- Make sure he wears clean clothes—check
- Tidy up his bedroom—check
- Clean his bathroom—check
- Vacuum his favorite seating area—check
- Clean-up the kitchen floor after he’s finished breakfast—check
Typical morning to-do list when your child wakes-up, right? Wrong, because in this case, I’m talking about my seventy-eight year-old father-in-law. He’s staying with us for two weeks while my sister-in-law, back in Dover, DE where she lives with him, attempts to “de-clutter” a portion of their house. I’ll provide you some background to clearly illustrate the plight of their overall situation…
My father-in-law is an intelligent man; a former chemical engineer/inspector who ably served his country in the Air Force for a twenty-six year period spanning the Korean and Vietnam conflicts. He’s originally from Aruba and has travelled the world more than I can ever hope to in my lifetime. Divorced some time ago from my mother-in-law, he has never remarried. Most importantly, he’s a sweet man with a good heart. Sounds great so far, but there’s one glaring hitch to this picture—my father-in-law is a world-class hoarder.
My wife and I occasionally watch “Hoarders” on the A&E network. I do not exaggerate when stating my father-in-law easily out-distances ninety percent of the people featured on the show. His house has already been condemned once by the local fire department (the violation was lifted once some 
minimal cleaning was done), and he and my sister-in-law are the bane of the surrounding neighborhood. He also owns nine cars clunkers that are stuffed to the roof with some of his belongings. (I’m earnestly trying to be polite here by not using the word “junk”). Entry into their home comes with a caveat—prepare to walk diagonally through the living room on the narrowest of clear paths that are not littered with clothes, utensils, tools, books, food, trash, etc. Suffice it to say, the home’s spider webs are probably older than me. Want to see the living room couch or dining room table—lot’s of luck, as they’re both hidden under piles of debris. When my wife and I endured three straight weekends of travelling down to Dover a couple of summers ago to help clean, we wore surgical masks in the ninety degree heat for fear of breathing in any intoxicants from the mouse-eaten carpet and accompanying droppings.
OK, typical hoarding scenario, so why the world-class designation? Simple, the hoarding doesn’t end with their home or cars clunkers. My father-in-law also owns approximately three acres of land some twenty minutes from the house that has a corrugated warehouse measuring 75’x50’x20’, and it’s full!! I mean full in the truest sense—a twenty foot high pile that almost prevents one from walking into and around the premises. Still not impressed? OK, let’s add the four surrounding garages that are all bursting at the seams.
We recently were in Dover on another cleaning foray, and unfortunately experienced a true day in hell. All of these years we thought my sister-in-law was encased in her father’s world of hoarding without having the fortitude to rectify the situation (again, I’m trying to be polite by not discussing her own serious problems); instead we made a startling discovery—she too has a serious hoarding problem. During our clean-up, she became extremely agitated that we were throwing away her “cream-of-the crop” belongings. We tried explaining there was no “cream-of-the crop,” only crap! This remark set her off to such a degree that when my wife tried to intervene and calm her sister down, a physical altercation ensued between the two of them—the first time I’d seen that in the twenty-five years my wife has been a part of my life.
My wife and I cannot adequately express the depths of our despair over their living conditions. Despite our best efforts and suggestions, the nightmare in Dover presses on. We encourage both my father-in-law and sister-in-law to stay with us for a few days each month; thankfully they have complied. My wife and I know their trips to visit us present more than a brief respite from their deplorable daily existence; they are literally like vacations for the two of them. For us, it’s a chance to offer them clean, sanitary living along with (hopefully) a calming environment to ease the mental stress they each face.
Caring for one’s parents/relatives is a common part of the lives of many of us who are fifty-plus. I discussed this phenomenon in an earlier post, ”Caught in the Middle,” in October 2009 when discussing The Sandwich Generation. In our case, it’s done out of love, not just by need. I try to take much of the burden away from my wife, but it’s her father and sister, so the resultant emotional toll is quite high. We’ve never faced as dire a situation that called for us to be partners-in-crime and always be there for one another’s support.
I know many of you face similar circumstances and I’d like to hear from you so the discussion can continue…
-Neal
P.S. Exact detail of what we found and threw away during our cleaning trips to Dover has purposely been spared from this post. This was done out of courtesy for my father-in-law and sister-in-law, and quite frankly would not make for pleasant reading. Those of you who are experiencing these circumstances are well aware of what I’m talking about here.
