Saying Goodbye

In some ways Alzheimer's can be a blessing. Although everyday I curse the disease I am so grateful for the time I have with my dad because I know I am not ready to say goodbye. I feel as though I am saying goodbye one little piece at a time. As his memory has diminished, I have tried to gather and record as much as I possibly can so it will not be lost forever. My dad is so different now compared to the man I grew up with as a child. He was a Naval Officer, proud, stern and demanding. We grew up with statements such as, "What's the sense of doing something if you are not going to do it right?" and "If you want something, you gotta work for it!" Although I did many, many things with my dad, compliments were very hard to come by. I grew up believing my dad was perfect and infalable. Now he is childlike as my daughter takes him by the hand and leads him to where he needs to go. His eyes light up when he sees lady J and me when we go to see him at the nursing home and I am grateful each time that he still remembers us. Sometimes he visits with us and dances and sings with us. Other times he sleeps while we read to him or we just enjoy the comfort of being with each other. It is a comfort to know that he doesn't remember how painfully my mom died, yet he remembers her beauty and he remembers dancing with her. It is a comfort to know that he doesn't remember all the petty fights we had when I was growing up, especially as a stupid teenager. It is a comfort to know that he only knows my sister in a loving manner after years of animosity. Yes, everyday I grieve a little more as my dad slips away, but everyday there is a little more acceptance. For now, I cherish every moment in time with him as if it may be the last. I love him so very much.

Perspective

A couple years ago I had the privilege to listen to a good friend of mine give a speech on perspective. Now when I feel like things are spiraling down and I am going into a depression I just think of the word perspective and realize;

1. Things could be worse.
2. I have been through much worse.
4. Other people have been through worse.
5. Later on this may not look so bad.
6. I will get through this, don't give up.
7. There may be a different way to look at things.

Last week I was really missing my mom. My heart ached as I yearned for her companionship. I also felt guilt as it has become necessary for me to assume some of her responsibilities.

The other day my dad received some paperwork from his Navy retirement stating that he needed to list his beneficiaries. He sat in his chair and read the paper over and over again, obviously bothered by the words he saw there. Finally he spoke up and asked me, "What happened to my wife? I don't think I divorced her."

I turned to him and gently said, "Dad, Mom died." I could tell part of him was relieved and part of him very disturbed. He knew that he had loved his sweetheart for 50 years. After a brief moment he asked, "How long ago did she pass away?" "June 29th", I told him.

From across the room I could see him wipe the tears from his eyes as I tried to offer my words of comfort. At that moment I became aware of how difficult it must have been for him to realize he had forgotten my mom's passing and it put my own grieving into perspective.