Monday, June 18, 2012

June 18, 2012

Yesterday was Father's Day. In the last few years my family has evolved like never before. My oldest son is living in another city, my youngest son is home for the summer. My daughter's dreams are evolving from the unreachable to reality. My father has been in an Alzheimer's unit, my mother treats me as if I don't exist and my in-laws are plagued with health issues. Recently my mother-in-law has suffered a series of strokes and has lost use of her arm and leg requiring her to move into a nursing home.

My oldest son and his girlfriend visited yesterday. It is amazing to see the person he has evolved into. I know that his life won't be without the same trials we all endure but he has an awesome start. To have him here for Father's Day was very special for me. I have never really taken notice of this day in the way I did yesterday.

My youngest son cooked me crepes for breakfast with fruit filling. He was very proud of his efforts as was I. I was flattered that he got up extra early, before a long work day and made me the focus of his attention.

After working in the garden for a bit and after lunch, I went to visit my Dad. He was very happy yesterday. He was beaming with a huge grin. It was very easy to be with him. He couldn't talk very well at first. We went for a walk around the facility at Sentry Hill. And then we sat in the sun. I asked him if he remembered when I was born, if he saw me be born. He didn't really answer and then I told him that back then he may not have been allowed in the delivery room. He perked up and agreed. I then asked him about one of my earliest memories. I asked him if he remembers holding me in a rocking chair. Immediately he said, "right next to the front door." I was flabbergasted. I asked him if he did that often. Without thinking he said, "Oh, no!"

He has carried the memory of holding me for maybe 50 years, through his dementia. And I have carried the memory of being held, helpless as a baby in his strange arms and feeling comforted. Is was comforting sitting in the warm summer sun with him yesterday. He was at ease and excited. He was happy. In spite of all my concerns the world was spinning and my dad in spite of all the other possible emotions he could be experiencing because of his unfortunate situation was happy. Wow.

Monday, June 11, 2012

June 12, 2012

I feel more sad than usual. My visit yesterday with my Dad was the most difficult it has been for a long time. And I should mention I haven't seen him in over a month. He was OK. He was happy to see Sandra and I. I don't think he recognized my daughter, Amber.

It was a picture perfect day in York Harbor, Maine. Hi 70's F° and clear skies. Right away he thought we had come to take him away. He couldn't say where he wanted to be but someplace was for sure. It broke my heart to know that I wouldn't take him away, to where he wanted to go.

My life is a balancing act with two business, children and more interests than I can possibly attend. It was really all I could manage to just visit with him for an hour or two. It is all so difficult to balance. Difficult to place everything in an order that I won't regret. And realizing that the perfect solution is just a compromise.

None the less it made me sad to see my Dad sad. I felt powerless. And since communication is challenging at best and often impossible it is hard to express my empathy to him.

Alzheimer's is a dreadful sentence at times. Sometimes I see it's unexpected symptoms as graces. Often when I leave him from a visit I feel nice, like I made him feel good. But yesterday he was sad.

I realized he is still very much a person and is still more connected to the world than one might expect. His speech is feeble. His thoughts are shattered when he attempts to express himself. But in his thoughts he wants, desires and is full of emotion. He is in one of the most beautiful settings in York Harbor, far out of reach for most. But his heart does not belong here. This is not the place that he built with his hands, the place where he collected his tools and cut his trees. This is not the place where he feuded over land boundaries, took dates, dug rocks, and piled stuff behind his house and cherished it all. But he is here. And it is comfortable and warm. There are many people who take care of him with care and pride. Who greet him in the halls with genuine warmth and sincerity.

Who are we? How did we arrive here and what is the right thing to do. I don't remember asking to be born. I don't remember asking to be responsible for the happiness of my Dad. I am not sure of all the choices we make. I feel that for my Dad to be in an assisted living facility, in a lockdown ward is convenient. It is also very costly. I don't know of other reasonable solutions. So here he is. With more of a broken heart than I realize. And here I am unable to get a smile from him.