Toward the end of December 2007 I found out my dad has Alzheimer's. Such horrifying news actaully brought some relief - because it provided answers. Answers to his erratic and quite frankly mean behavior. He has an appointment later this week with his neurologist where we (the family) get to ask all sorts of questions. Like, what percentage of his brain is dead, yes dead! His brain loss has been filled with spinal fluid ... what does this mean. At this point, the range of how far along my dad is with this disease is not good - he's much deeper than anyone realized and past the point of taking meds to help slow the process. Bless my middle brother for training over from Whitefish, MT to be with my dad during this visit. My dad has requested my step-mother not attend. Now one could argue if he is truly of-the-mind to make this sort of decision but my bro is making the trip out. And I struggle with my attendance; should I, could I? Would it anger my dad further to see me during this vulnerable time for him? I know he wants my brother (this is clear) doesn't want his own wife. And the pessimst in me says he wouldn't want his daughter there either.
Meanwhile, I'm trying to figure out what this all means. My dad and I have never had a close father-daughter relationship. I never doubted his love for me, he really didn't know how to show it and I didn't know how to ask for it. My parents were divorced when I was about 3-yrs old. At some point during this process my dad told my mom he'd take the boys (my two older brothers). Bless my mother who said no you take them all or none. He choose every-other weekend visits instead.
He was in and out of various relationships until he married my step-mom when I was 10. I can honestly say that if it weren't for my step-mom I don't believe I'd have any relationship today with my father. She has been the rock, the pull to get us together on a regular basis. She's been through a lot during the past 24-yrs of marriage to my dad. To say the least, he's not a warm, fuzzy, great communicator, happy-go-lucky, have some good-deep laughs with kinda guy. Quite the opposite really ... he's angry, loud, demanding, a talker for telling past stories (this doesn't make him a communicator cuz he's telling stories - not dealing with life's daily business). Anyway, I know deep down they have shared an overall wonderful 24-yrs of marriage.
No regrets ... no guilt ... how do I achieve this so when my dad passes I can morn him completely and peacefully? I really don't know; I don't feel I can really talk to him because we don't talk at that level and he won't remember the conversation (than what do I have to loose if he won't remember). I could write my thoughts in a letter to him but truly I wouldn't know what to say. As I have this struggle with myself I also fight the temptation to shove this aside, don't think about it or deal with it on a conscious level.
The battle will rage on and I will find the strength necessary to say good-bye to my dad.
Thanks for reading,
Nick
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4 comments:
Nick.. (love the name)
My father had Alzheimer's Disease and it was a tragic and unbelievably sad thing to experience. (Forgive my directness.) It's not called "The Long Goodbye" for nothing. My father, who worked in Air Traffic Control was a 'sharp as a tack' and traveled the world, but Alzheimer's robbed him of his memories and for his family, the Dad we once knew.
However, in the midst of this journey, there were lucid moments and snapshots of my Dad the way he used to be. No, he would not remember conversations and more often than not, could not recall my name, but I told him I loved him, each and every time I saw him. He would either act puzzled, confused but at rare times, he'd smile and for a brief moment he remembered.
I'm so sorry you are beginning this journey with your father. I do think a diagnosis of AD is often a blessing when there appears to be no explanation for a change in a loved one's behaviour even though it's painful to deal with.
Whether you are close to your Dad or not, I hope you will find the strength to talk to him, love him and just be there for him. Ironically, sometimes though it's the things left unsaid, which mean the most.
Best wishes to you and keep writing.
Regards
Carrie (Katie's friend)
P.S. thanks for inviting me to the blog. Here's to a great GNO!
I am so glad you have each other to share in this difficult chapter. I am so sad you have both experienced it but I know that moving through things with others is key to this life. God bless you and please let us know how things go with him and do know we're hear to talk... k
Carrie - thanks so much for sharing your story and experience with Azheimer's. I spoke with my dad this evening. A challenging conversation; during our short (less than 10-minutes) conversation he repeated the same story about his day today. I am proud to say that as we hung up I told him I loved him. He probably won't remember but it was good to say (and hear back!).
K - thank you, as always, for your love and support.
GNO coming soon -
Good for you, Mara. I hope you are as proud of you as we are.
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