Yes, this is happening.
It was his 75th birthday on Friday. He didn’t know it was his birthday or remember how old he was. I did.
I marvel at folks my father’s age or older who are still able, who are still self sufficient. It reminds me of how much he has lost. How much of life Dementia can steal away. How “not normal” his aging process has been.
Does it matter to him that I remember his birthday? Will he remember tomorrow that I did? Or will it be as if it never happened?
I don’t know the answers to those questions. I never will. I wonder how much longer he will exist in this state of living but not living. It seems cruel for the body to go on when the mind cannot. But crueler still would be the reverse. I guess I should be glad for small favors.
He is happy with his French toast and chocolate milk and making his lists of things to “fix” at the nursing home. He is safe and warm and has a favorite chair. Even if I cannot find it within me to be glad for those small things I am grateful.
Truth. So beautifully written
True. A vicious cycle indeed.
|—||Muhammad Ali- (via lifestrokeadventures)|
This photograph was taken during the 2010 eruption of Eyjafjallajökull in Iceland.
He sleeps ‘til the afternoon and paces the hall at night. Do not try and change his schedule. He will not participate in your craft activity. Do not try to make him. He will shower when he decides it is time. Do not try to convince him that the time is now. He will eat when he wants to and not because the schedule says its time. He will however drink chocolate milk whenever it’s put in front of him. He will not make friends and you can not make him.
He is done with this world. He has significant cognitive impairment. Or in layman’s terms severe dementia. He has no short term memory and is starting to rewrite his history as well. He measured his identity and self worth by what he did to earn a living. He is no longer capable physically or mentally of working his trade. But without a job a man is nothing so he talks as if he is part of the staff who is responsible for fixing things at the facility.
He never wanted to end up in a nursing facility. He never thought he would live much past 55. He thought he would die at home from a heart attack same as his father. He thought he would leave his house to his kids. But that didn’t happen.
So he sleeps until the afternoon and paces the halls at night. If you visit he will show you the automatic paper towel dispenser in the utility room each time he passes it and tell you he installed it. The ice machine is at times an ice machine, a heating unit, or a laundry machine depending on which lap he is on. And in between …he waits.
He is my father.
YOU OTHER READERS CAN’T DENY
WHEN A BOOK WALKS IN WITH A GOOD PLOT BASE
AND A BIG SPINE IN YOUR FACE YOU GET SPRUNG
WANNA PULL OUT YOUR PENS
‘CAUSE YOU NOTICED THAT BOOK WAS DENSE
READING, HALF-RIMS I’M WEARING
I’M HOOKED AND I AIN’T CARING
OH BABY I WANT AN E-READER
AND A MEANINGFUL METER
MY TEACHERS TRIED TO TRAIN ME
THAT BOOK YOU GOT MAKES ME SO BRAINY
OH MY GOD.
And then I died…
rapping this forever
BLESS THIS POST
Anonymous (via eclecticprism)
And that is the whole point of life.