Vanity: For My Dad, who has Alzheimer's

Sad heart | 11/10/12 | Self

[Yaelle]

I wrote this tonight and just need to share it. Maybe some of you have family members with this insidious disease too.

Hello; it's good to see you.
I don't remember why it's good to see you, but it is.
I know I like you, and my eyes crinkle in evident delight that you are here.
Immediately I want to rattle off something witty and topical, 
But I don't remember the words right.
So I look for something I can see, and relate it to you.
It's good to see you.
My smile is not like my smile of before.  It's full of undivided pleasure.
When you used to come, I'd have a frown right after my quick grin.
The market is down; my team lost; there's a plumbing problem; I've got so much to do.
I'd cut the visit short because I was so busy.
Now, for now, nothing impedes the pleasure I have at just meeting your eyes.
I know I like you.
Later my expression will seem pained.  It may be time for you to go.  
Stimulation makes me very tired after a while.
I still walk like I did, hale fellow well met.
I know I used to feel important.  I still do.
I don't remember why.
I don't remember that I used to juggle so many balls in the air;
I ran a business, took jobs on the side, volunteered, and traveled the world.
Numbers and bills and stocks and payrolls flew in and out of my head all day, 
Things it now takes six people a lot of time to do instead.
I used to read trade papers, journals, novels, biographies.
Now I read each piece of mail with equal interest, 
Even if it has an envelope that reads, "You may already be a winner."
I love to see my family.  I ask questions of my older grandchildren 
But they aren't the curious questions I used to ask.
Still, I try to ask a question, even if I don't get the words right.
I want to still tell them I love them
But I can't.
I want them to grow up like me, putting the most important things first.
It didn't always work with their parents but I hope it skips a generation.
But I can't get it right so I just smile at them and try to ask them if they are happy.
I still crouch down and play with my little grandchildren.
Nothing has changed!  We connect in a special way
And that is all we need.  We laugh.  We play.  We roll a ball together.
I hope they remember playing with me.
I am so glad you came.
I long to share with you something I thought about recently.
I can't.  
I love getting your opinions.  I just don't remember on what.
But it's good to see you.
I know I'll be smiling big when I see you next time.

[Yaelle]

Thank you, and to everyone on this thread saying such nice supportive things.

<3 freepers rock.

[Bigg Red]

My heart goes out to you, FRiend. My dear mother had senile dementia for a few years before she passed away in 2007. This is very hard, I know. Prayers up for you and hugs to you.

[Heart-Rest]

What you wrote is so very moving.

Praying for your Dad and for you and your family.

"How precious is thy steadfast love, O God! The children of men take refuge in the shadow of thy wings." Psalms 36:7

[melsec]

Having a child like you must have made him so proud!

Blessings

Mel

[TomMore]

visiting grandma, her friend and friend’s husband came over for a dinner
friend - smiling and happy, what a beautiful home!
chit chat, chit chat
friend - happy and smiling again, what a beautiful home!
chit chat, chit chat
repeat, repeat, etc.

but, to be half that happy and gracious . . .

bless you and your father

[Sun]

What a beautiful OP.

My dad had Alz., too, and while the mood swings were bad, we look back at the many good days, like when we took him to the sing-a-longs, and he sang & remembered every word of those old songs, and was so happy, he took me by the hand, and kept singing and smiling. And we remember all the times my brother played “pitch & catch” with him in his room, even though the Alz. became very severe, and he still loved children and dogs.

[SuziQ]

Oh, Yaelle, that brought tears to my eyes, remembering my mother's last few years. She was 'diagnosed' with Alzheimer's in late 1998, and lived for 6 years with that insidious disease. Thankfully, in the end, she still remembered her 8 children, and even her grand-children, but she was kinda fuzzy on the Great-Grands. The worst part was at the beginning, because she was extremely angry and scared, and lashed out at everyone who tried to help her. My oldest sister took that really hard, but we tried to tell her that it wasn't really Mother saying those things; it was the disease.

The first few years, we had a lovely lady who lived in and took care of her during the week, with my siblings coming in the on the weekends. Since I lived so far away, I was only able to come a couple of times, spending a week while the caregiver went on vacation with her family.

In her last couple of years, she was in a nursing home, and was pretty happy, because she made a whole new set of friends every single day, and the nurses and aides, for the most part, were very sweet to her.

[SuziQ]

We loved her and mourned her passing, but it was a relief and a blessing when she did. I’m very torn about saying that, and disagree profoundly with some of the conclusions others might reach as a result of such an observation. She lived her full life and died a natural death.

I know exactly what you mean, and our family felt the same way. When my younger sister called me to let me know, my first words were "Thank God". My mother had been 'ready to go' for years, but she was in good health, other than the dementia, until the last year, when she declined pretty steadily.

Her 'calling hours' at the funeral home was a raucous party in honor of a funny and very sweet lady. It's a good thing there was not another family in the building that night; they might have been scandalized by our behavior. There were tears, for sure, but many more laughs and good memories.