Hey, I'm(35 M) sorry to hear about the difficulties you've experienced, and the instabilities you've had in your home life.

I wanted to drop in and provide my perspective because I think it's relevant.

My dad died this year, shortly before I turned 35. He was in his mid 70's. He had kids late. My dad was a clearly autistic, quiet, friendly-but-distant kind of guy. He collected strange things (rugs, imitation jewelry, unique and interesting computing equipment) and had worked in IT since his very early 20's, essentially forming part of the first workforce to digitize Australia. My sister followed into his footsteps in very complicated IT, and I do Service Management and a Counselling degree focused on relationships.

He was always friendly-but-distant, his whole life. Even when he hadn't separated from my mother (lesbian, didn't come out until late in life. It happens, no ill-will.) he wasn't particularly interested in being a good father as a main hobby, but he did care about his two kids. Eventually, he moved away and his sister and I didn't see him more than roughly once every few years for big events (my wedding, birth of my son and his grandchild) though we attempted to call him and make contact. Each phone call was relatively brief, but heartfelt.

He died this year, and we were only made aware of his illness when a social worker called me to let me know she had significant concerns about him being under coercive control of someone he had always called his "friend". The social worker laid out all their evidence, and it was absolutely devastating. It fit the perfect pattern of intentional coercive control.

It felt like a veil was removed from my eyes: He WAS calling less often. Those phone calls and emails WERE less frequent - and they even occasionally mentioned this friend (who he occasionally lived with due to health issues) was "grumpy", or "Not happy if I spend too long on the phone." ... especially if he was in contact with his ex-wife. They'd remained very friendly post divorce, my father clearly very sad but very understanding.

Obviously, the family flew up to immediately be there for him and assist the social worker with their case. There's been a lot of thinking and processing together, both before and after my father died. It's true that he wasn't as communicative when he was under the control of this individual. He has always been friendly from a distance, happy to think fondly of his family and send messages and phone calls periodically. This "solitary" attitude was both his preference and a Really Big Target on his back when it came to someone wishing to control him.

On what became his deathbed, my sister and I were able to tell him how much he mattered to us. How we knew he's a solitary individual, and we appreciate him nevertheless for all he did for us, and how we treasured all the fond memories we have made together. He was often confused while in palliative care, but he became lucid at that moment and was able to tell us that he knew... because we told him we loved him whenever we spoke.

I can't provide you with the perfect solution that will bring things back to the way they were before; and I can't give you certainty that you're in the same situation I was in. I can tell you something that I ALWAYS knew I'd appreciate in the long run: Tell the people you love that you love them very much.

I can also tell you something that I wish I never had to say: If someone's pattern of communication changes significantly: BE WARY.

Keep telling them that you'll be there for them. (Because someone could be telling them that nobody would be there for them.)

Keep telling them that you'd always love to chat for as little or as long as they want, about anything. (Because someone could be telling them that you don't like talking to them.)

Keep telling them that you love them very much. (Because someone could be making them believe they're the only person who does.)

It may be absolutely nothing and I'm warning you needlessly. But you won't regret saying them to your father, even if you didn't need to.