“He was going to drive all the way from Indiana to Spokane. Half-paralyzed, in a maroon Mercury that looked like a tank. I told him, ‘Daddy, I don’t think that’s a good idea.’ But you couldn’t tell him anything.” –Faith Washington.
About 18 years ago, when Faith Washington’s father, William Farrington – now a 92-year-old Korean War veteran – announced that he was driving cross-country from Indiana to Spokane, she knew there was nothing she could have said to deter him. He was definitely not going to catch an airplane. He’d had a stroke and could not live alone, so he decided to move himself to Spokane to live with his oldest child.
She still remembers the anxiety of that drive across the country.
“I said, ‘You have to get a cell phone so we can keep in touch with you.’ So he bought a flip phone. He was driving, and I would keep very close contact with him, calling numerous times during the day.”
But when he got into Montana, she couldn’t get a hold of him; he wasn’t answering the phone.
“I finally told my husband, ‘I can’t get a hold of my dad.’”
So, she called the Montana State Patrol.
“Have you seen this little old Black man, half paralyzed on one side, driving through?”
It turned out he had simply lost signal while making his way through the mountains. By the time she finally reached him, he was nearing the Montana – Idaho border. The sound of his voice brought her both relief and exasperation – proof that he was safe, but also that his strong will had carried him through yet again.
That bold trip marked the beginning of a new chapter for them both: the transition from father and daughter to caregiver and companion, a journey that would redefine family in new and unexpected ways.
A Father Who Won’t Be Told
Farrington’s tenacity and stubbornness are just a composite of his personality; he was an only child who learned early to be independent. Settling in Spokane was an adjustment. He disliked the snow removal compared to Indiana, the higher cost of coffee, and eventually the assisted living facility he reluctantly moved into after a fall. “His independence was threatened at every turn,” Washington explains. “He drove until he was 90, and even after, he wanted his car started every day so it wouldn’t sit idle.”
Handing over the keys was difficult, but so was watching him resist help with daily tasks. There is a delicate balance between support and autonomy.
“Because he’s hard of hearing, I would sometimes answer the doctor’s questions for him,” Washington says. “One day he stopped me and said, ‘Talk to me. I’m the patient.’ That was a wake-up call.”
Routine, Awareness and the Struggle With Change
If there is one thing Farrington insists upon, it is knowing exactly what to expect. Any disruption to his routine – whether it’s a new aide coming to help him bathe, or a change in who manages his care – can send him into a frenzy of frustration. Washington explains that for her father, awareness and preparation are not just preferences; they are essential to maintaining his sense of control.
“He doesn’t like surprises,” she says. “If someone new shows up without warning, he feels blindsided. And that can spiral quickly into distrust, agitation, or refusal of help altogether.”
Washington has learned that the key is consistency and communication – explaining each step, preparing him for what’s next, and ensuring he feels part of every decision. “When he knows what to expect, he’s calm. But when routines are broken, it reminds him of what he’s lost.”
The difficulty of those moments weighs heavily on both of them.
Carrying On a Cultural Tradition
As we talked during the interview about the unspoken rule of caring for your kin, she remembers her great-grandfather. “My great-grandfather lived in the back room of my grandmother’s house after a stroke. Nobody ever talked about it. He ate his meals there, slept there, and was cared for until the day he died – on Christmas morning. It was just understood,” she recalls.
Washington emphasizes that children need to see that we don’t throw people away in their elder years.
“It’s part of the cycle – they cared for us, and now we care for them. That’s how we honor family.”
Humor in the Hard Moments
Caregiving is rarely straightforward, and Washington finds humor in the tension. She tells stories of taking her father to a nail salon after he stopped seeing a podiatrist. “He was so particular – ‘don’t soak my feet, just trim the nails.’ When I tipped the woman, he was outraged. ‘Five dollars?!’ I told him, ‘Daddy, she touched your feet!’”
Even assisted living has surprised her. Once reluctant to socialize, Farrington has taken up bingo, earning the nickname “Bingo Bill.” His prize? Candy bars he proudly stashes in his refrigerator.
Lessons in Care and Planning
Washington knows the work of caregiving extends beyond the day-to-day. “Get the paperwork done,” she advises. “Wills, power of attorney, military documents, medical directives. Don’t wait. Someday is not a day of the week.”
Families should have honest conversations with their elders: Do you want a funeral or a memorial? Burial or cremation? What kind of medical care do you want at the end of life?
A nurse by profession, Washington understands the nuances of medical treatment when nearing the end of life. One important document is the POLST – Physician Orders for Life-Sustaining Treatment. Unlike an advance directive, which names a decision-maker and outlines general wishes, a POLST is a signed medical order that appears in a patient’s chart. It gives clear instructions to doctors and emergency responders about what kind of treatment your loved one does or does not want.
She explains that a POLST can specify whether someone wants full resuscitation with CPR and defibrillation, limited intervention such as oxygen or IV fluids, or only comfort measures like repositioning, medication for pain, or easing breathing. For many families, this form answers critical questions in moments of crisis: Should 911 be called for aggressive intervention, or should the focus be on keeping the person comfortable at home?
Having these decisions documented ensures that your loved one’s wishes are respected and that family members aren’t left scrambling or uncertain during an already painful time.
Closing Old Gaps
For Washington, this season of life is an unexpected return. “When my parents divorced, I longed to be with my dad. Decades later, here I am – helping him, learning from him, laughing with him. I can’t argue with him; I have to let him lead, even when I know better.”
In William Farrington’s independence and stubborn will, she sees a gift. “He may never say it, but I know he trusts me,” she says. “That drive from Indiana to Spokane was his way of saying, ‘I choose you.’ It’s funny how the Lord does things. I always wanted to be with my dad, and now, 50 years later, I am. I thank God for that.”
This story was made possible by funding support from AARP Washington and BECU. You can find more information, tips and resources for family caregivers in Washington state on their website at www.aarp.org/caregiverswa.
AARP is urging Congress to pass the Credit for Caring Act. The federal tax credit of up to $5,000 a year would put money back in the pockets of eligible family caregivers and help defray the costs of caring for a spouse or other loved one with long-term needs. Washington state needs family caregivers, and they need a tax credit.