February 6, 2013

"Goodnight Dad, I will see you in the morning," I whispered into my Dad's ear as I left him last night.

Yesterday was long. My sister and I stayed with him as long as we could. Our thoughts seemed to be one. We wanted him to feel ok to go. He was breathing heavy at times and other times as gentle as a baby. He laid on his bed, making not a move. Less facial twitches than before. His eyes open slightly at times, maybe looking out, maybe just too tired to close them.

My sister was going away for a week, leaving him with me, the staff and the hospice workers. It broke my heart to know she wouldn't be there for him when he passed. She explained that this was a once a year vacation and she had to go. Earlier in the day and in preparation of her absence we created a recording of her talking and singing amazing grace, his favorite hymn. I read 23 Psalms and she closed with a heartfelt encouragement for him to move on to the next world as god and his family were waiting when he was ready. 

In the early afternoon we realized he may no be ready to leave because of the company we were keeping with him. Joined by my stepmother, Rita, we sang him lots and lots of his favorite hymns as he lay motionless except for deep arduous breathing. We expected he enjoyed our efforts and could not possibly feel alone. We were visited by many hospice people and a few suggested though his signs looked as he may slip away at anytime some people won't go when others are present. I suggested to my sister that I leave when she left as she needed to do some errands. We told my Dad we were leaving and would be back in about an hour. We very much wished he would feel comfortable about slipping away if it were his time. After leaving and upon my return he was still a mortal. I commenced to burn the recording we made earlier onto a CD. I put the CD into the boom box on his dresser and checked to see if it worked; it did.

There is nothing that compares to watching a life end. It is beautiful and terrifying at the same time. When I watched him gasping for air I wondered how I will do if I get this far. And I realized the joy he brought to his parents when he came into this world. They brought him in and now we were helping him out. It was a privilege without compare. I love my Dad and took great comfort in knowing how much he loved me and my sister at this epic moment in his life. 

It wasn't clear if my Dad was getting closer to passing as we moved into early evening. It was clear that his breathing was becoming accompanied by a rattle which was unnerving. We asked for more meds for the congestion and an increases dose of morphine. They upped his morphine from .5 mil to 1 mil. The rattling in his throat somewhat subsided and we thought the morphine may help calm him down as we prepared to leave. My sister and I both realized it would be the last time all three of us would be together in this world. As we made our way out we stopped by the nurses station and informed the staff my sister would be leaving for vacation but we have made a CD for them to play with our voices so that he would hear especially my sister's voice and reassuring message. They responded enthusiastically to the idea. My sister and I parted ways after a long day, a long week and a long experience with Alzheimer's Disease. About an hour after I arrived at home my phone rang, it was a nurse from Sentry Hill, her name was Shannon. She told me my Dad had passed. I called my sister immediately to confirm. She had driven back, yes she told me, he is gone. She added the staff said they had played the CD for my Dad and when he passed, she said, "that son of a gun was humming along." It was amazing to me he found the energy to hum. In fact I am in awe. He was so without energy, so helpless when we left him. 

Last night I slept a little but was very distracted. You see, I have never had a Dad die before. I had thought about it and what it would feel like many times. But last night it was real. Strangely, mostly what I felt was relief, not sadness. 

This morning I went over to Sentry Hill to pick up my iphone charger which I left behind last night. I felt OK until I got into my Dad's room. The bed in which he passed away on was right in front of me. His shoes right on the floor. His body had been taken to the funeral home sometime in the night. Everything was still there, just as I left him, except him. I took some photos off the wall and opened his closet. His clothes still hanging, many familiar shirts. The tears welled up and I just couldn't help crying and crying. I held the sleeve of a shirt as though he were in it. I knew I couldn't hold on but tried. I carried a few things out to the car. Started to drive away but was interrupted with heavy emotional outbursts. My face was contorted to the point of feeling embarrassed. As I collected my thoughts and feelings I could sense my Father everywhere. Suddenly, I realized the tears were becoming joyful. I looked out through the windshield and into the cold winter sky and tree line. My Dad was everywhere as the tears rolled down my cheeks.

I drove away from Sentry Hill and recalled the last words I said to my Dad, "I will see you in the morning."

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.

A Little Music is Good for the Soul

The last time I saw my Dad a friend of mine, with whom I am in a band and myself, played music at Sentry Hill. It was two Sunday afternoon's ago. We set up in front of the residence with guitars, a PA and played for two hours. I have never played in front of Alzheimer's patients before but recommend it to anyone who is a musician or a wannabe.

These people were not free to come and go as they please, as in bars which I have played in the past. Nope, most cannot get out of a seat. Those in a seat, like a wheel chair have not enough strength to make haste for a getaway. So there they sat before us, my Father included. And we played for them. From our hearts.

As we played the help gathered around as well and it became quite cozy. We received delightful applause and occasional hoots and yipeeeees. It was a fun way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

My Dad and I at Sentry Hill in York Harbor, Maine

Since, I received two calls from Sentry Hill. The first was to inform me my father had swatted his lower false teeth out of an attendent's hands and broke one of the teeth. The second was that he fell into a fireplace as he tried to pet a dog which someone brought into visit the old people. He possibly lost his balance while bending over.

I miss my Dad alot. I miss my sons as well. It has been very strange to have two sons who are prospering at college and a Father who is declining monthly. They are all beyond my reach in a tangible way. And we are all disconnected from the family cohesiveness that I once enjoyed so much.

My oldest son has created an album that is very beautiful. Take a listen, it is peaceful and soothing...http://whorl.bandcamp.com/

I have recently been visited by my mother. She came by work unexpectedly. She asked if she could speak with me. I had a premonition that she may want to reconcile our differences. But no, her agenda was only remotely relevant to me. In fact she told me I was lying about so many things that I made her leave. It is odd to feel no love from a person, let alone my mother. I cannot get around the idea that she visited me and didn't bother to inquire about how I have been or share concerns, thoughts or anything about me. When I brought something up or replied to her questions she said only, "you are making that up," or "that's a lie."

My mother is an enigma to me and her actions become increasingly unresolved when opportunity favors her. There are few people in life that I get such little feeling from. Many complete strangers offer far more compassion and love. Thank God.

January 15, 2012

Today was cold. Mid teens, I think. 18°F +/-. I walked into Sentry Hill and found my dad asleep on the built in seats next to the windows in the common area. His head falling downward, his body slumped and silhouetted before the large windows looking out toward the glass looking frozen pond. I pulled off my jacket and turned to sit down next to him. He instantly awoke and looked at my face. He said, "Oh, Kev!"

He then, with a smile said, "I, didn't, huh...know, huh."

I was happy to be recognized so quickly. He asked how I got there. I told him in my car and offered him a ride. He readily accepted. We checked out with nurse Judy and I lent my Dad my coat and in no time we were off, cruising Long Sands Beach. My Dad kept saying, " That is a lot of boats, Kev," as we drove along Route One A. The ocean on the right and houses and motels on the left. I said, "Dad! those are motels!"

"No, they are boats," he acknowledged as he watched the houses bathed in crisp winter lights pass by us. 

We turned right and headed toward the Nubble Lighthouse. When we got there we stopped and thought about getting out of the car. But when I opened my door and walked around the back of the car and to my Dad's door and opened it I realized it was far to cold and windy. So I reorganized my thoughts and we drove along the coast. At each intersection I asked him for directions and he always indicated a direction that was furthest away from where we had started. 

I haven't had my Dad out for a drive in at-least a year, maybe two. I constantly challenged his memory and asked all along the way if he knew where we were, if he knew who lived in that house or where this road would take us. He asked me if I had been at Albert's (my great grandfather who died in the 1940's). I said no and asked if he had. He replied, "Yes, and what a bunch of stuff that happened there."

As we drove along I thought of how he drove me in his car when I was his young son. How we would whistle Amazing Grace in unison and how that I knew then neither of us were tone deaf (in spite of what others told us). On the same roads we were driving now and then, 40 years later. Finally, we came to my driveway. I asked if he would like to drive out to my house. He said yes. So we drove along the half mile ice and snow crusted road that I had first found when I was 10 years old or so looking for a fishing hole. Back then there was no gravel and no pot holes, just a soft bed of rusty pine needles. There was barely a road at all back then. It only the easiest way to walk out here and ghostly impressions of wagon tracks form many years ago. 

We pulled up to the front door and I asked my Dad if he would like to try a gun that I had recently acquired. He shook his head in agreement and I asked him to wait in the car as the icy snow had made everything treacherous. I ran into the house and grabbed the gun and ran back out to the still running car. I opened up the box and carefully unlocked the gun. I checked for shells though I knew it wasn't loaded and then passed the gun to my Dad. 

He looked like a child at Christmas who had been handed a toy gun. His face lit up and he declared it was real! I said, "It sure is." I asked if he would like to shoot it. He said, "Ah, let me see, why not, Yes."

I took a magazine and loaded 3 rounds into it. I don't know why 3, it seemed like not too many and not too few. I opened my car door and put the gun into my back pocket. I walked around the car and opened his door and released his seat belt. He maneuvered around and pulled himself out of the passenger seat. He stood up on the slippery surface. Once he was comfortable I withdrew the gun from my back pocket. I put in the magazine and told him it was loaded and ready.

I passed him the gun and he held it like it was his own. I told him to shoot at the target that I had placed 15 feet in front of him. He didn't understand. I told him it was the big black circle on the white board. He couldn't recognize it. I asked him to pass me the gun and I would show him. I fired a round into the target and passed it back. He held it again as if he were going to shoot but could not find the target. I suggested he fire into the air. He declined. I fired the remaining rounds into the target and we got back into the warm car. I locked the gun.

As I drove back down the driveway he said he had had a dream last night. In his dream he was holding the gun we were just using and he was in a place that he couldn't quite describe. I asked him if it was at his home. He said no. What about my Aunt's? He said no. I said what about Thompson's Meadow. He said yes. To clarify I asked him, "With my gun?" He said yes. He then asked if I could believe it. I said yes I could.

April 8, 2011

After not seeing my Dad in over a month I wasn't sure that he would recognize me yesterday. I consider not being recognized as the next step in his disease. When I first entered Sentry Hill he was no place to be found. I asked the nurses if he was in another section or had been taken out by someone. They informed me he was here, someplace. A further search revealed him in someone elses room, alone, asleep in a large stuffed chair in front of two bright sunny windows.

I entered the room and clumsily sat on the bed next to him. He was startled and awoke from his nap. He looked immediately at me and said, "Oh, you made it!"

I asked how he was and he said his back was bothering him. Not hurting, but he could feel it. He also said his brain was rattling. I asked him to clarify what he meant and he said it just rattled. It didn't hurt, it just rattled. His brain is shrinking. It is what happens when a person has Alzheimer's Disease. I didn't know what to tell him.

I asked him if he would like to take a walk around the building. He asked me if it was cold outside. I said we would stay inside. He got up using his own strength and we walked down the hall. The usual cadre of fans greeted us down in the corridors, each coaxing a big smile from my father and myself, as well. We came to a mirror and I thought it would be a fun way to get a photo of him and me. I stopped before the mirror and then recalled the mirror had been removed from his room at my sisters request because he had some uneasiness about it. But it was too late to divert his attention. He was standing beside me looking into the mirror.

He said he didn't look...and he struggled for a few moments while I clicked a few pictures and then responded, "Handsome?"

And then I reminded him how he is constantly told how handsome he is. He smiled and agreed. We walked on, past some hustle and bustle, past the front desk located in a large foyer. My Dad told me that he didn't have any money, nothing. He emptied both pockets. They were empty.

I reached in my pocket and offered him a dollar. One dollar was all I had. I put it in his hand and he asked what is this for. I told him in case he needed it. He passed it back to me. I suggested he put it in his pocket but he would not have it. We walked back, the length of the building and passed through the doors with the keypad. Back to his section which is called Browning. All of the sections are named after British poets. I wonder if Browning is named for Elizabeth Barrett Browning or Robert Browning.

Before I left we sat next to each other on a long window seat. It was very quiet. We were in a large room with about 15 others. A movie had just finished playing on the wide screen TV. It was a classic movie, some feel good movie. I could tell only by the static logo projecting on the screen. There was no sound except for two food ladies preparing dinner in a small kitchenette. Through the window behind us the sun warmed our backs. My Dad said, "my brain his rattling."

I looked at him helplessly. I told him I was leaving and he got up after two attempts and followed me to the door. I punched the numbers into the keypad. I hugged him and he hugged back tightly. He told me he loved me. I told him to knock on the door when he heard me knock from the other side. I passed out into the entry, past the keypad, past the solid door. I knocked. He knocked back from the other side immediately. It was like a game. I knocked again and then him again and we repeated this several times. Finally I summoned the courage to turn and walk away, keypad again and through another door. I was outside. My thoughts were full of my Dad.

January 31, 2011

My dad asked, “How did you find me?”

I replied, “I knew where you were dad, so I just headed in that direction.”

He marveled, like the concept was laden with mystery. His eyes wondered to someplace far away and back to mine and he smiled and said, “Jeepers.”

We took a long walk through the building. Many residents doors were open. Myriad elderly residents were posed in their rooms in wheelchairs before large screen tvs watching black and white movies with Carry Grant or Jimmy Stewart. There was one exception. A woman who may have been 90 was sitting completely motionless in a wheel chair watching an exercise channel. The woman on the screen was 20 something, vivacious, full of enthusiasm and vigor. She was jumping up and down coaching the woman in the wheelchair. "Ok, two more, and one and that's it! Now let's....”

As we passed by the room my Dad held up his hand. He could’t say what he was thinking. I said, “Are  your hands still strong dad?”

He said,“Oh yes!”

At the end of each hallway I would bring my dad to the window. At one window I said, “There is my truck, down there, the green one.”

The sun was shining bright outside. The large building cast hard shadows on the massive piles of plowed up snow. I felt sad that this wasn't my father's world, beyond the glass. The world that he had ventured out into for 80 years.

At another window there wasn't much to comment on. We both looked out, expecting more.

We eventually returned to the doors from which we had came with the keypad lock. A nurse or attendant held the door open for us and greeted my dad back. As she held the door open for him he stopped as if there would be a conversation. He re enforced his stance. She said, “Haven, sweetheart, you better follow that young man.”

He said “Oh.”

He followed me back to a large room where I had first found him. We sat on a window seat. Side by side. The slanting shadows, through the windows were behind me.

I told him I loved him and that I was going to leave. As I expected he interpreted this to mean he was coming with me. I hugged him and wished some how I could avoid the pain of tricking him to stay. He followed me to the door, I typed 1998 into the keypad and we watched the green light appear. As I opened the door I told him he had to stay on the inside and I was leaving. He further pushed the door open enough for his passage. Now we were both in the foyer, beyond the keypad.

“Dad, follow me.” I suggested. Returning back inside he followed me over to the nurses station. The nurse asked how she could help us.

I said, “Haven Freeman is as determined to leave as I am.”

She said,“Haven, why don't you come with me?”

As she walked him out into a large sun room in the opposite direction of the keypad door I heard her say, “Yes, your son will be here when we come back.”

As I typed 1998 into the keypad, opened the door and walked out into the sharp bright sunlight the pain followed me just like my shadow.

November 30, 2010

http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=the-heart-brain-connection

As a subscriber to Scientific American I recently read the above article from the magazine. This morning I noticed it was posted on the SciAm facebook page so I can easily share it with you.

The article is not completely full of bad news. I was especially interested in the Australian study which found that people who did 20 minutes of exercise a day had 2x enhanced cognitive test result compared with those on the drug Aricept (Donepezil).

My Dad took Aricept and Namenda. Although these drugs facilitate enhanced memory they evidently do nothing to prevent dementia or Alzheimer's Disease. My father has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease. In the past year his motor skills have diminished, he less frequently walks on his own (indoor) and I have found him mostly sleeping in a chair in the dining room at Sentry Hill when I visit. He is locked into the Alzheimer's ward by a keypad. If you can't punch in the correct four digits you cannot exit.

Upon arrival for a visit I can wake him by calling his name or tapping his arm. Sometimes he dozes off and sometimes he remains attentive throughout a visit such as yesterday. My sister and I both visited him together. I was greeted by a broad grin which assured me he knew who I was immediately. My sister brought 3 boxes of donuts and provided coffee. She shared them first with my father and then the other residents whom seemed interested. He seemed very happy to be amongst his children.

We were told that the memory enhancing drugs (Aricept and Namenda) would run their course and he would have to stop taking them, which he did. There is no hope in site for a cure for Alzheimer's Disease. But the linked article does provide some hope that a healthy heart is a benefit for the brain.

July 8, 2010

The heat of summer has arrived in York, Maine. We have had lots of 90°F weather and not much rain. A customer called from Boston on Tuesday and declared it was 106°F sitting in traffic. Ouch!

My sister called yesterday and told me my Father had fallen out of his bed early in the morning and then fallen while walking around 10 am. He seemed to have no bruises. The staff at Sentry Hill had placed him in a recliner for the day.

I went over to see him around 4pm. And sure enough he was still in the recliner. He was awake and as usual in pretty good spirits. I brought him 2 milk chocolate caramels from our chocolate shop, Divine Chocolate. He ate them with a fervor. It was nice to see him enjoy them. He asked me if I had been over to see Evelyn's grave (his oldest sister). I told him no, but last memorial day he and I and my kids went over to rake and clean up the graveyard. He couldn't remember.

I sat with him quietly as we watched the staff prepare the residents for supper. Most of the residents require assistance to get seated so there is a lot of effort made. The whole endeavor begins around 4pm and lasts until 5pm. Moments before 5 I said goodbye and headed home.

April 5, 2010

Around 7 pm yesterday Sandra, Silas, Amber and myself stopped by Sentry Hill to visit my Dad. We had spent the afternoon in Worcester with Nathaniel. We picked Nathaniel up from Clark University and drove to a park near Worcester Polytech. It was a perfect afternoon, 75°F and sunny. Sandra had made a picnic lunch and this is how we celebrated Easter.

The night before I had a dream with my Father. We were on a wharf or a large deck. There was no day light, maybe moonlight. We were both moving freely to the edge. There was no rail and as we got closer I could see no bottom beyond the edge. My Father seemed to be in the same state of mind that he was 10 years ago. He was lucid, quick to react and in control of his surroundings. Although he was moving very fast toward the edge.

As it appeared he was going to fall over the edge I grabbed him and pulled him back. I held him in my arms and he embraced me. I told him I loved him more than once. I woke up crying. I was sad. My Dad had become very much like a child. I had dreams similar to this when my children were younger. They would take off down a sidewalk, fall off a bridge and in those dreams it took all I had to rescue them. Or I would wake up before I had rescued them. Those dreams always put me on a heightened awareness in the real world and I would be perhaps overly cautious with my kids due to these dreams.

The dream with my Dad was so similar except my children had their whole lives ahead of them and my father is 81 and has a terminal disease. In this dream I had become the protector. But the most significant aspect of the dream was the embrace, the holding on and his mental state.

I had thought about the dream throughout our trip to Worcester and was anxious to get back to York to see my Dad. We found him sitting in a chair in a partial daze. It seems to take a while for him to realize who we are and that we are not strangers. He referred to me as Kev and asked if he could leave with us at the end of our visit. It is heart breaking to tell him he must stay as he is trying to pass through the door with me.

March 15, 2010

Today is Monday. It has been raining all day and all day yesterday. We have considerable flooding here in the Northeast. I am tired of the rain and anxious to see the sun.

I drove Nathaniel back to Clark University in Worcester, MA this morning. It rained the 2 hour ride down and back. I hydroplaned in a few places.

Last night Nathaniel and I went to visit my Dad at Sentry Hill. Nathaniel didn't really want to go visit him. I didn't insist, though I did tell him that last week I told his grandfather that I would bring Nathaniel by when he came home for spring break. Like myself, Nathaniel felt guilty and we ventured out into the dark windy rainy night to see my Dad.

There is a brook that intersects our driveway and on the way out noticed the water was at the very top of the culverts. This could mean our culverts (2) are on the verge of being washed away. I called Sandra and we parked the other two cars on the opposite side of the brook from the house in case the worst happened.

My father was snoozing very lightly when Nathaniel and I walked in. He was sitting close to a large propane fireplace. It was very warm and comfortable. He recognized us and was happy to see Nathaniel. We took a long walk through the building and up some stairs. We chatted about nothing that seemed important but all enjoyed being together. He had misplaced his senior Olympic medals and we took a look in his room for them. Whereupon we found his new room mate in the room with only the bathroom light on. His name is Francis Raynes. He is from Kittery, he told us Cutts Island.

Francis seemed like a very nice person. He was friendly and had some dementia though not as advanced as my father.

My father also was very pleasant to be with. I am pleased (and proud) that he is so good natured. It is easy to provoke a smile from him. I am very pleased that Nathaniel did go with me. For many years I have had dreams that I didn't visit my grandmother, who lived next door, enough. I would wake up from the dreams which were so realistic and all though she had passed away years ago, I was hopeful that she might still be alive and I could visit her. Or sometimes in the dreams she was alive and I hadn't seen her in 10-20 years. And when I finally do see her she is much older than my recollections but happy to see me, forgiving. Yet I would still be laden with guilt.

I wondered last night if those dreams were to insure I don't let the lack of visiting become an issue with my kids. It is very strange but often I think of my Dad and am content knowing that I love him and he is safe. My need to spend time with him has diminished from over a year ago when he first went into Sentry Hill.

We hung out with my father for an hour and a half and said our goodbyes. As we did an older lady approached us with a walker and asked if she could leave with us. And then she asked us if she were dreaming. I told her I wasn't dreaming so I suspected she wasn't either. Nathaniel and I walked back out into the rainy dark. The stubborn dark night had not given an inch since we had gone inside. Windy, wet, wet. I am not a proponant of so much rain and even less of snow. So I had that to be grateful for, I suppose.

February 4, 2010

I haven't seen my Dad since Christmas night. I think about him often, every few hours. On Christmas day, Sandra and the kids and I all went to visit him. We all sat in the big room that is octagonal with a high ceiling and punched a balloon back and forth to each other. My Father is remarkably agile for his age and condition. He dominated with the balloon punching.

I haven't visited with my Dad because I am emotionally exhausted. Driving over to see him is atleast a 2 hour endeavor. It's an 18 minute drive each way. I can never pop in and just say, "Hi Dad, just stopped by to see how your doing, gotta now." Although I have tried this it is just too confusing for him.

There have been so many things going on with the rest of my life I have put visiting him at the end of my list of priorities. I need to spend time with my kids. I was taking a lot of time off from work to visit which I cannot afford. In the evenings when I am at Sentry Hill visiting my father for a few hours I am not at home with my family.

My heart aches no matter which decision I choose.

With my oldest son off at college it has become completely clear that you become severed from your children. Nathaniel's college is an hour and a half ride from home. It is too far to drive for a casual visit. With my other two kids still at home I cherish all the remaining time I have before they too, head off into the world. I feel best after work to go home and look forward to sitting at the dinner table and being in the presence of my wife and kids. The completion of this ritual is usually 7-8pm, too late for me to visit my Dad.

I also enjoy visiting my Dad. The look on his face when he sees me is like no other. I love talking walks with him, reviewing the past and joking around with him.

It has given me a lot of peace to know that he is in a great place. Sentry Hill is very dignified, far and above his expectations and the staff is genuine.

The social worker, Sara, called me a few weeks ago to ask where I have been. I explained to her that although I love my Dad and pray for him often I cannot put as much energy into visiting him as I have in the past. I just don't have it.

My sister emailed me yesterday reminding me that our Dad won't be around long and that he asks where I am all the time.

There have been times in our past that my Father and I haven't seen each other for atleast a year and often months would pass even though we lived about a mile from each other. I think I have seen him more since he has been at Sentry Hill than I have in the past 20+ years. I am really grateful for this. When he was first admitted I had no idea what to expect. I didn't if he would be gone in a month, week or year. He has done very well.

November 11, 2009

As I was growing up I remember my Dad spending endless hours playing solitaire on our dining room table. He would loose nearly as often as he would play with a few exceptions here and there, which were always peppered with hurrah's and much glee.

Today I visited my Dad, my sister was there as well. She ate breakfast with him. I arrived at Sentry Hill with my own cup of coffee and declined breakfast. There isn't a lot to talk about. Usually upon arrival I test my Dad's memory to see where he stands in relation to my last visit. This morning he was sadly much less cognitive. He couldn't remember his U.S. Army serial number which he has always been able to recite without any hesitation. This was particularly sad as today is Veteran's Day.

Thinking back to when the 3 of us would spend time playing his favorite card game, kitty whist, I walked down to his room and picked up the pack of playing cards I put in there shortly after his arrival at Sentry Hill. Coming back to the table in the dining area I dealt the cards as if we all knew how to play. As I had forgotten I was hoping either my sister or Dad could remember. My Dad had a tough time picking up the cards, though he made an honest attempt. By reading his face he looked like he was playing. But his hands were at a loss.

We tried kitty whist and then solitaire. At first he was at a total loss as I dealt the cards out directly in front of him. My sister and I assisted him hoping and trying to provoke his memory. He happened to put a few correct combination's down though I wasn't sure if it was just luck.

With our help (cheating) he managed to win.

October 27, 2009

Today is my Dad's 81st Birthday. My sister and I had dinner with him at Sentry Hill. She picked up fried clams and haddock from the Weathervane and two birthday cakes form somewhere else.

Haven H. Freeman enjoying some fried clams

After we had the fried food I went up stairs to find Jack Lewis and invited him to join us for cake. He came downstairs to Browning with his harmonica. We played a few tunes together while my Dad at cake. We were also joined by a resident whose name is Cedric. He is confined to a wheelchair yet managed to contribute to our musical follies after being coerced by Jack with a bit of yodeling.

Haven and Kevin Freeman

I think my Dad felt like having Jack there took a bit of attention away from him. But it was good for all of us. Jack is a very kind soul. He makes great music and I was delighted to play with him. Jack also pays attention to everyone and is very inquisitive. A marvel for 94 years.

Kevin playing harmonica with Jack Lewis

Before my sister had arrived I took my Dad for a walk around the building. He talked to me about how unhappy he was and how he was getting nowhere. He said no one was helping him. He didn't want to stay at Sentry Hill. As he told me this I couldn't help thinking about how lucky he is. The heat was over 78°F though he said he wasn't warm. The interior and exterior of the premises are charming. The staff is always attentive. And my Dad is unhappy about being there. I think he is serious. I don't know what would make him happy. I really don't know. I take this as some solace as I think no matter where he might be he will be unhappy. At least he is unhappy in an otherwise very nice situation.

Daughter Karen and Haven Freeman

Here is a prayer my Dad taught me when I was a little boy:

O God, Dear Heavenly Father
Please let us thank you for this day,
Especially for Mommy and Daddy and Karen
and Grammy Freeman and Grammy McNamara
and Grandpa Bill.
Please be with all of our friends and neighbors,
and be with all of the sick people
that we do know about and don't,
especially (who ever was in need of prayer due to sickness)
We ask it all in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

Happy 81st Birthday Dad, I love You!

October 11, 2009

Haven H. Freeman in Japan while serving in the Korean Conflict (War), 1954

My daughter is doing a project for social studies and asked for some family photos. I scanned some photos for her and when I got to the photos of my Dad in uniform I recalled how proud he is to have served in the Korean War. He was there in 1954 and has told me things were winding down. He said that although he never saw combat they were always on alert. They slept outside in the winter, washed with cold water and would hike 30 miles with full gear.

Currently, my dad is noticeably worsening weekly if not monthly. He is much more likely to begin a sentence and stop after one or two words. When prompted to finish he has completely forgotten what he started and isn't overly frustrated.

Although there are exceptions such as when he went apple picking last week with some other residents at Sentry Hill. He told me many details about the ride to New Hampshire, the apples he tried and about the "old timer" who owned the orchard, plus two others.

He remembers me when I see him, although a few days ago he initially referred to me as Fred. Fred was his Uncle. He then laughed and said, "I just called you Fred, Kevin."

I never met Fred (Perkins), he was gone long before I was born. In the past 10 years my father has also called me Paul (his brother's name) a few times. It has been rare but one takes notice when they are called by a different name other than their own. He has always corrected himself, so far, when this happens.

After supper on Monday my daughter, Amber and I visited my Dad. He was still eating when we arrived at Sentry Hill. I didn't want to disturb him so Amber and I took a short drive down to York Harbor where she took my camera and took photos of the sunset over the marshes. When we returned he was in the middle of dessert. So we took a seat opposite him but a few tables away. He immediately recognized us. He said, "Oh, Hi Kev."

After he finished he got up and I heard him say to the 3 others at his table that he was getting up to see his son. There was no indication anyone heard him. We took a walk through the building. Recently I have used the elevator rather than the stairs but decided to try the stairs last night. Each flight is about 20 stairs and the first set he did very well on. We walked the lengths of each level and used the stairs on each.

As we walked he told me he got into trouble by telling a lie. He couldn't remember the circumstances but told me it had to do with a woman that I knew. He couldn't tell me if she was old or young, resident or staff. He had embarrassed himself. I told him I had never know him to tell a lie before and asked what kind of lie it was. He couldn't remember any further details.

I did notice the medal he won in the Senior Olympics was not around is neck as it had been on Saturday's visit. I asked him where it was and he said at his house. I looked in his room and couldn't find it. There was a photo on a chair in his room of a baby on a bed, naked. But up in the air, face looking at the camera. It was a large photo, maybe 20 inches across in a very characteristic frame of the turn of the 19th century. It was of Andrew my Dads roomate up until yesterday as he had just passed away and his stuff was being readied to be taken from the room. It may be at his house as he might have asked my sister to take it so no-one would steal it.

It was difficult as usual to leave. After 2 hours I needed to get Amber home and we tried a, "love you dad, give me a hug, goodbye."

As usual it nearly worked but then he asked, "where am I going?"

I told him as usual for the last (and then counted the months off with my fingers,) 10 months you will be staying here tonight. The concept seems so foreign to him.

Last week my sister drove him to his primary care physician's office, I met them there and we all attended his 4 month check up. He slept most of the visit and woke up at the end. He has type 2 diabetes, high blood pressure, high cholesterol and more. He takes 7-9 pills a day. For the doctor it is all a balancing act. My fathers stomach rumbles almost constantly and he has lost some control of his bowels. It is a concern when I take him out. As a result I have taken him out less than I did a few months ago.

Senior Olympian

Yesterday morning I attended a 6 month meeting at Sentry Hill for my father. My sister and I met with the Social Worker, Head Nurse and Nutritionist. The meeting lasted for about 15 minutes. Among the issues discussed were his recent TIA.

On Friday, September 11 as I was driving to my son Silas' first home cross country which was at York High School I received a call from a nurse at Sentry Hill. She told me they had found my father on his knees in the outdoor courtyard. He was very disoriented and confused. They had already called an ambulance. I switched destinations and arrived at Sentry Hill in time to see him being place in the ambulance and then followed him to York Hospital. They gave him an MRI, xray and ultrasound. We were there for about 3 hours. They released him a decided he didn't have a stroke, rather a TIA.

We returned to Sentry Hill at about 8:30 and were greeted by a nurse who had a huge hug and very kind words for my Dad. She immediately settled him in a attended to his hungry stomach.

The last few times I visited my Dad he had a medal that said "senior olympics." He told me that he paid $200 for it. And then told me he won it and beat 200 people to get it. He was beaming with pride as he showed it off to me. He keeps it in his front pocket and cherishes it. Yesterday at the meeting I found out he did win it at an event Sentry Hill takes its residents to in Sanford, Maine. The social worked told me that he did compete with 200 seniors and won several events.

As my father and I were walking yesterday he asked me what I thought about his medal. I told him I was very proud of him and that as far as I know he is the first Olympian in our family. He grew a very large smile, he was truly impressed with himself. It was very touching.



After I visited my Dad I stopped at the barber shop for a hair cut. I jumped into a seat (no wait). The barber started chatting and asking what I had been up to. She has cut my hair once in the past, so we are barely acquainted. I told her about my Dad at Sentry Hill and she figured out who he was when I told her my name. She exclaimed, "Oh, you are Haven's son!" She told me she used to see him at the York Hospital cafeteria and he always had some sort of old tools to show her. She was very enthusiastic about knowing him and asked me to say "hi" to him for her.

August 17, 2009

I visited my dad yesterday morning and took him for a walk. The morning was very beautiful, bright blue sky, a slight northerly breeze, a truly magnificent summer morning. After about a half mile of walking and as I was about to say how nice the new sidewalk was that we were upon my father's foot caught a pressure treated landscape perimeter abutting the sidewalk (covered with weeds) and fell down, face down into the over run flower garden. I was shocked to see him lying there. He didn't move a muscle for a moment and then slowly got up. He had some blood on his finger tips and his left palm was chewed up my the pavement that took the brunt of his fall. His knee had been scraped.

We walked back to Sentry Hill where a nurse cleaned him up, assessed him and bandaged him.

It was very frightening to see him sprawled out on the ground so suddenly. I had no idea that he was even falling as he was a step or two behind me.

It has become more difficult to take him out for a drive as when he needs to use the bathroom he needs it within minutes. And on walks this has become an issue. He walks much more beleaguered than even a month ago. He sort of limps, right shoulder forward with a bounce. Very uncharacteristic of him as he looks like he could tip over easily. As he did on our walk.

I don't like to think that I shouldn't be taking him for walks. I haven't brought him to my house since our summer party on July 18. After the party he had reached a new level of confusion which lasted for about a week. He was very foggy and more disoriented that previously.



After the nurse had bandaged my father he and I went back outside and filled a couple of cups of cracked corn that I keep in the back of my truck and fed the duck's in the pond adjacent to the Browning Wing at Sentry Hill. The pond is very pretty as are the flowers at the whole facility. It was very hard to tell him I had to take him back inside on such a beautiful day. He didn't understand. And I would have liked to stay much longer.

Sandra had planned an 80th birthday party for her mom in Bedford, NH. So I left him, inside and he was disappointed. It is becoming more difficult to leave as he really wants to go with me and on Friday was very insistent that he was going home as I was leaving. One of the activity personnel pulled him back inside, physically.

July 6, 2009

Here is a link sent to me from my cousin Bill ....http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/health/8132122.stm

Yesterday afternoon (Sunday) Sandra, my kids and myself went hiking around Mt Agamenticus before I went and picked up my Dad from Sentry Hill. We walked around the eastern trails and up the old T-bar. The trails are now grown up with alders and birch and some white pines are starting to take hold. It is hard to believe this is a place where I spent so much time skiing when I was a child in the 1970's.

We picked up my Dad and went to Hannafords Grocery Store in York and picked up some necessary groceries to make dinner. He pushed the shopping cart around the store for us. This was a first. He would occassionly bump ever so slightly into people or their carts and apologize to them and ask that they wouldn't sue him.

My father asked me on Friday if I would take him to his house to spend some time. I could only stay for a short visit so had to tell him I couldn't. He also asked if we could take a long walk in the woods. I had to disappoint him again. But I told him perhaps tomorrow I could.

My Dad has spent his life in the woods. Not the deep woods of Northern Maine but as a person who loves to be in the quite tame woods of York, Maine. As a kid I would help him cut firewood and haul it home in his home made tractor. We would toss it into the cellar, stack it and burn it through the winter. As he got older his woodlot turned into a houselot and he divorced my mom.

Being the day after I didn't mention it to him. I just brought him to my house and started cooking dinner. He seemed very content to sit on the deck until the mosquitoes became unbearable. Then we went inside, set the table and served dinner. Three of my kids, my middle sons girlfriend, Sandra, my Dad and I were present. It was nice being all together.

As the kids get older it becomes much more difficult to have so much family present.

Sometime during dinner someone said the 4th of July fireworks had been postponed until the 5th. We decided to go. After dinner we once again had the strange fortune of having my Dad help clear the table. This is so atypical of him. Sandra and I both wonder how this behavior has entered his brain. He has never offered this in all the years we have had him over for dinner.

Also, the other day out of curiosity I asked him if he likes pizza. When I was a kid he detested the thought, look, smell or suggestion of pizza in any way. It is one thing I can be sure he won't eat. To my surprise his reply was, "I don't know, I have never had it." Hmmm, this made me think that he would actually try it.

Wow! Things seem to change with his thought process. It think he may eventually forget he doesn't like certain things.

Fireworks at Short Sands Beach, York, Maine

There was a very large crowd at York Beach for the fireworks. I don't think I have ever seen so many people there before. It was concerning having my dad with us walking along the streets as we had to park a mile away and walk to Short Sands Beach. It was also apparent he could easily get separated from us.

The fireworks lasted over 20 minutes. It was a very generous display. They were launched from a barge about 300 yards off the shoreline. I couln't help being impressed with the large crowd, organization and huge display of fireworks. He said he felt dizzy and Sandra took his arm as we made our way back through the crowds to our car. We took my Dad back to Sentry Hill just before 11 pm.

Sandra helping my dad navigate through the crowds in York Beach

I had a pretty nice weekend. I feel very sad that I cannot spend more time with Dad though. It is hard knowing he is pining so much time away from his home, his possessions and where his heart is. I do take comfort in knowing that he is well taken care of at Sentry Hill.

The previous evening (Saturday) Sandra and I had the good fortune to take her parents out to dinner to celebrate their 51st wedding anniversary. We took them to a restaurant in Hampton, NH called the Galley Hatch. The food was very good. I had seafood linguine. It was a large plate of linguine, scallops, shrimp, all mixed and surrounded by muscles. It had great eye appeal as well as taste. Sandra and I also split a napoleon, as did her parents. Very scrumptious.

We all had a very nice evening. Sandra's mom has a lot of the same wonderful qualities that I see in Sandra. When we are all together I always feel especially lucky as there are two lovely ladies to admire.

Make sure you check out the above link. I think I will get a cup of coffee :)

June 19, 2009

Handsome Factor

Yesterday was much better for me that the previous day. I got a lot accomplished at work which makes visiting my father much easier. When I need to get more done at work and the day is past and I leave to see my dad I feel very confused. Being self employed requires whatever it takes to be in business and leaving before the necessary is accomplished is a compromise, meaning something will come up short. It is also difficult visiting my dad when my kids are home. I truly miss not going home and being with them. And when I am at home I feel like I should visit my dad. I search for a balance but my conscience won't let me feel absolved.

Last night we met Theresa and her dad, Frank at the York Hospital Cafeteria for dinner. It was raining. My father very much looks forward to any opportunity to seeing Theresa and last night was no exception. I couldn't pick him up from Sentry Hill before they served dinner. So I called and spoke with the charge nurse and asked her to prevent my father from eating at the prescribed time of 5pm. She said she would. When I arrived he had a note in his hand with large letters inscribed with a sharpie that said, "Do Not Eat, Kevin Will Be Taking Me Out To Dinner."

As I entered the Browning Wing he was sitting near the door. When he noticed me he held up the paper so I could see it. We both laughed. The other residents were sitting in the dining area and I signed my dad out, hailed a goodbye to the nurses and we walked out into the rain.

After dinner at the hospital we took a drive to Long Sands Beach and up around the Nubble Lighthouse. My dad had asked me before and again last night if we could drop in on some friends he knew on Broadway Avenue. I was tepid but conceded. I really had hoped they wouldn't be home as he pointed to the house. I wasn't sure if we would be greeted friendly or if it was even the right house.

My father jumped out of my truck and up the front steps onto the porch. He pounded on the door and before I knew it the door was opened by an elderly man with a large smile. A female voice started yelling, "Haven, Haven!! Where have you been? My gawd, we haven't seen you in so long! This must be your son, Kevin! Come in, here is a chair.

I could tell we were in good company. The home was very tidy, no TV. The lady (whose name I didn't get) began asking my father a hundred questions. She asked him to sing for her. She looked at me and declared he has a great voice. She informed me that he has always sang for her and promted him to begin. He started singing Amazing Grace. As he was singing she exclaimed how handsome he was. "Haven, she said," gosh, you are such a handsome man!"

Though he know where the notes were his voice waivered slightly. He has been singing this song for over 60 years and he knew it as well as anything. When he finished she told him he has a perfect voice. He seemed surprised. He glanced over at me and we all applauded.

The hostess and my father talked as if they were old friends with her husband, who she referred to as Cappy, contributing occassionally. She asked my father about Sentry Hill and decided that he had to be the most handsome man there. My dad seemed very content to be with these people whom I had never met. The lady asked my dad if he was 80 and he said yes. She then said that her and Cappy had both recently turned 90. I was astounded. They were both in what appeared to be very good physical shape and mentally if they told me they were in their 40's I would have believed.

Our visit last about an hour. I gave them my fathers address and room number and he asked them to visit him at Sentry Hill. As we drove back he told me he had met them at a yard sale they were having about 5 years ago. Since then he had dropped in on them every few months (with the exception of the last 6 months).

Nearly everywhere I take my dad plus at Sentry Hill my father is complimented on his good looks. Friends from the past, strangers, my friends, just come up to him and say,"Haven, you are soooo handsome."

One of my friends approached me in Rite Aid last week and said, "Everytime I see your dad I think wow, that guy is a movie star."

I think this is a blessing for my dad. Although dementia is certainly terrible he gets a lot of attention just from his looks.

May 28, 2009

Yesterday afternoon I received a phone call from my dad. He pleaded for me to take him home. I told him I could not take him home and leave him by himself. He sounded so desperate. I called his social worker, Sara and told her of his current frustration. She said she would go for a walk with him and try to ease his stress.

I went to visit him around 6 pm. He was in a very good mood and even danced around a bit. He told me right away that he had spoken with Karen, the administrator. He said he told her he wants to go home and she told him that he also needed to talk with his family. He seemed satisfied that he had made progress in his quest to go home. He also said that he had played cards earlier in the day with Sara. He used to love playing cards.

He and I went upstairs and dropped in on Jack Lewis. Jack is an elderly gentleman, artist. He also happens to play the harmonica. Though I have brought harmonicas to play with Jack in the past this time I brought my guitar. All three of us sat and sang and played old hymns. I also added a few songs that were out of Jack's harmonica key of G. They were some old blues songs that he and my father really enjoyed. My father cannot remember all the words to the hymns he has been singing for most of his life but can follow along very well and stay in key.

Jack Lewis

After our little jamboree my father and I went into the closed upstairs dining room and helped ourselves to a cup of tea. We sat and he talked about buying some land from a neighbor. He didn't know what he would do with it but if he could "get something out of it" he would do it. He was so much more content than earlier in the day. I left around 9 pm. As always he thanked me several times for coming over and I thanked him in return for having me.

May 27, 2009

Memorial Day Weekend is now behind us. I managed to spend most of Saturday and Monday with my father. On Sunday evening Sandra, Nathaniel, Amber and I took him out for an ice cream to a location of his choice. He picked Brown's Old Fashioned Ice Cream near the Nubble Lighthouse in York Beach. The kids size, which we all had was very large. His favorite is butter crunch.

Sandra's mom had an episode on Thursday and we told my father about it while standing in the huge line waiting to order ice cream. She was diagnosed with bleeding in her brain in late winter. She spent some time in the hospital and fortunately made a great recovery. We have come to regard her as a very special lady and my father took the news pretty hard. His body flinched as he listed and then he asked for more details. Sandra told him she was ok, that she had spoken with her and she didn't need to go to the hospital. He was relieved and asked Sandra to tell her he hopes she gets well soon. It was obvious he was very concerned about her.

It is very interesting to me how some things my father remembers completely and somethings he cannot recall but tries to talk about. Often he will not remember that I visited him the previous day according to my sister, but when I return with him to a place he had been a few days earlier he has full recollection. As on Saturday we were working in the garden, he was very content turning the soil over with a spadefork. However he kept looking over at my rototiller parked on the garden's edge as if it were taking a long winter's nap and was ready to wake up. He started asking me why we weren't using it. I told him it wasn't working and he said, "let's fix it."

We towed it from the garden up to the house and began pulling off the starter cord recoil and looked around for some rope to replace the broken one. We found some rope, replaced the broken cord and started pulling. The rope broke immediately.

My sister said she asked him on Sunday what he had done on Saturday and he said nothing. She asked him if he had seen me and he said,"no." Evidently attempting to fix the rototiller had escaped his memory.

On Monday I brought him to our house again and he got right out of the truck and walked up to the rototiller and found I had bought a new cord. He said, "Oh, you got a new one."

He then began to pull on it remembering where we had left off. Bye the way, the tiller still wouldn't start, I think there are carburator issues now.

On Monday my father and I walked to the Memorial Day Parade from Sentry Hill. My son, Silas was drumming in the York High School Band. Unfortunately, the parade was so small and passed so quickly we barely had time to pick him out. It was fun though. My father has gone to the parade for many years. We saw and stood beside some friends of his and to whom he was a bit grumpy with. When they asked him how he had been he said sarcastically, "what do you mean? How do you think I have been?"

This type of response doesn't encourage people to visit with him at Sentry Hill.

....Back to Monday. I walked to the parade with my father and then brought him back to Sentry Hill. He asked if we could go upstairs to see the saw marks or similar on the floor. I had no idea what he was referring to but agreed. We walked up a tall flight of stairs and opened the door into a lobby directly across from a nurses station. The head nurse was standing there and asked my father how he was. She was looking at him intently and asked what was going on with his lips. They were grayish, white. I hadn't noticed.

She sat him down in a chair and took his blood pressure. She said it was 90 over 60. His pulse was 60. I though this was pretty good and then she added that it is very sporadic. She suggested he rest a while. He went on to tell her how much he wanted to go home. That he didn't want to die there. He said he didn't mind dying if he was doing something he wanted to, but why would he want to die there? She was very sympathetic but otherwise wasn't able to help him.

It was very difficult to leave him. I told him I would come back later. The day was beautiful and he asked me if we could go out and look for the ducks in the pond. We went out. We were both very quiet. I knew how badly he wanted to go home. Finally, I said I was going to leave. He walked inside, through the locked doors and into the space so unbeautiful compared to the outdoors we had just left.

I picked him back up around 3:30. We went over to a graveyard where his sister Evelyn is buried. He also intends on being burried here. As it was memorial day I asked Amber and Nathaniel if they would like to come and rake up the graveyard and do some pruning. Although Memorial Day is intended to commemorate fallen soldiers it is also a good time to clean up family graves and reminiss about people my kids never got to know. They agreed and we all spent a bit of time in the woods trimming and tidying up.

Sandra stayed home and cooked dinner for us all. Upon our return home my father ate two baked potates, two ears of corn on the cobb a generous serving of haddock and a piece of apple pie that Sandra baked. We had a nice time with him. And later Sandra said, "I really enjoyed having your dad here."