The challenge

 The morning I was set to take my dad to lunch, I woke up to an email from my mom.  She wanted to share with me something that happened the night before with my dad.  Her email started with, " I am not writing this to you to make you sad..."

With mom's permission, she has told me I could share this.  She was preparing my dad for bed and as she was helping him with his socks, he said to her, "I have a daughter. But I don't remember her name."  Let me start off first by telling you that I have dreaded this moment since my dad was diagnosed.  Selfishly, this has been my biggest fear.  I have told my self for the last year that this would be my breaking point.  But surprisingly, it wasn't.  

I cried for a moment, gave my children and husband a hug and left for work.  I cried the whole way to work.  Before I got out of my car to go in, I wiped my face, blew my nose, and reminded myself...Dementia will not win.  

As lunch time rolled around, I started to feel sick to my stomach.  What if I get to lunch and dad still doesn't know who I am?  As I pulled up next to their car, he looked over at me and smiled.  He got out of the car and said, "Hey there Vanessa."  We had a wonderful lunch (chicken fried steak, 2 eggs over easy, hashbrowns, and 1 pancake with a slice of lemon meringue pie on top).  We talked, we laughed, and for a moment all was well in the world.  (Silver lining).

Will there come a time when I am a stranger to my dad?  Of course.  Will there be a day where he looks at me and wants me to leave him alone?  Probably.  Will there be a time that I look at my dad and he stares right through me?  Yes.  Will it hurt?  Absolutely 100% yes.   But do I have to let it be my breaking point?  Nope.  It just means I will have to figure out a new way to help him and I can tell you now, I have never turned down a challenge.  

The peach tree

 

This week I was able to get back into the swing of dad and I's routine. We had lunch at Perkin's. Same time, same food choices, and the same conversational chit chat. There are times where I think I should come up with something to ask dad about or talk about something meaningful. But then I realize that I don't have to make our lunch dates into something they are not. That I just need to let it be and roll with it. And most times, it works itself out. And today's lunch proved that.


After our routine check in, discussion about the weather, update on the boys and their activities, and the "worries" of the week (this week, my dad is convinced that my mom and he are moving and he needs to make sure my brother and I have all of his treasures), my dad said something that made me go back in time. He told me he was going to go home and water the peach tree.


I was born in Michigan and we lived there until I was almost 6 years old. In the backyard next to the swing set my dad made me was a peach tree. This peach tree grew the best peaches I have ever had in my life. I remember swinging on that swing watching my dad mow the yard, darting in and around that massive tree (it looked massive to me at the time).


I remember the smell. Once the peaches were ripe, you could smell the peaches from a mile away. To this day, the smell of fresh peaches (not the canned ones) is my favorite scent. In high school I always used the peach scented bath and body works lotion because it reminded me of this peach tree. I love anything peach, the color, the smell, and the taste.


I remember the big barrel looking ice cream maker my dad and mom would make vanilla ice cream in. I loved watching it churn the cream into this creamy concoction but what was even better was when my mom cut up fresh peaches from our tree and stirred the bits throughout the ice cream. I have only found one other place that serves ice cream that comes close to that taste and it is only seasonal. You better believe that I frequent that establishment as much as I can when in season.


Reminiscing about that peach tree made me smile. It also reminded me that I have been blessed with so many memories from my childhood. (Silver lining). And on days where I am angry, it helps to remember this quote by Charles Dickens, "Reflect upon your present blessings-of which every man has many-not on your misfortunes, of which all men have some."


I find there to be many days that I am angry. I don't like that this is the way my parents are going to spend the rest of their time together on earth. I am angry that life for my family will never be the same. I am angry that this has happened to my dad. But I still have my dad. I still get to see his kind eyes and his smile that lights up his face. I still get to have moments with my dad which means I can still make memories. And even when dad is gone, there will still be blessings as I have so many memories. My memories outnumber my misfortunes by a landslide.

Fish fry

 This past week, Dennis and I took the boys on a Spring break vacation.  We had a blast and made a lot of memories.  The down side of being away was that I couldn't have my weekly lunch date with dad.  The Sunday before we left, I mentioned to dad that there was a Dan's Fish Fry in a town close by the day following our return home.  I knew we would be tired from travel and busy with catch up of laundry and grocery shopping, but I also knew how much my dad enjoys fried fish.  So we made the call to ask dad if he would like to go and get fish once we returned.  Of course, dad was all in.

I started to feel sick on our last day of vacation.  Stuffy nose, sore throat, and aches.  As soon as we touched down Friday, I was not feeling well at all.  I slept most of the day on Saturday to wake up at 4 p.m. which was the time we were to head over and get my dad.  I was very upset because I didn't want to cancel, but I also didn't want to risk getting my parents sick.  Through my frustrations, Dennis said that he would take him.  I told him he didn't have to do that, but he insisted.  Reminding me that he loves my dad too and would enjoy some quality time with him.

I drifted off back to sleep with peace in my mind knowing that my dad was still going to get to enjoy fish but sad that I would be missing it.  I also admit, I was a little sad that I was missing out on this weekly adventure as I have come to look forward to these moments with my dad very much.  At 7:30 p.m. my cell phone started to ring.  I looked and saw that it was my dad.  

As soon as I saw the words Dad Cell, I thought he was calling to tell me that he missed me being there.  But when I answered he asked me if I was at work.  I told him no that I was home sick and then he asked me if I was still on the airplane. It was like he wasn't listening at all to what I was saying.  I repeated, no I was sick and at home.  He didn't mention the fish fry, nor the fact that Dennis and the boys had just left his house.  He didn't mention anything about me not being there, just wanted to tell me that he had a box of coins and pencils that he wanted to give me sometime.  I told dad that I would gladly take the items he wanted to give me and do whatever it was that he wanted me to do with them.  He said thanks, and hung up.  

Dennis and the boys arrived a short time later.  Dennis told me of his evening adventure and how much my dad enjoyed the fish and talking with those also in attendance.  He chuckled as he told me how dad stopped and talked to a young man and thanked him for his service, but the poor guy had no clue what my dad was talking about.  But thankfully he rolled with it.  

Even though I was sad that I missed out, and even more sad that dad didn't realize I wasn't there, he enjoyed himself some fried fish and had great company to go along with it.  My silver lining.  

The boys

 

The boys have been on spring break this last week so they joined dad and I for lunch.  As I snapped the picture of the 3 of them it made me realize, that they too are suffering a great loss.  I would like to think that dad will be around when they graduate high school, move on to big things, and make dad a great grandpa one day.  But the reality is, he probably won't be.  

I have been pregnant 4 times.  The very first pregnancy was so exciting and I couldn't wait to tell dad.  I had always known he would be a wonderful grandpa just because of how he was to me growing up.  I could only imagine that his awesomeness would swell 100%.  The second hardest part of losing a child is having to tell the people that loved them as well.  I remember my mom and dad coming to our house and just sitting with Dennis and I.  There were no words exchanged but we all felt the hurt,  The second loss was no easier.  By the time I got pregnant for Myles, we were all on pins and needles just waiting for the worst.  But as my belly grew, the worry faded.  Dad was there every day while I was in the hospital.  He was one proud grandpa!  And he was there every day after that.  I loved watching dad with Myles.  I loved the way he would hold his little hand in his and walk through the garden.  I loved how he would take Myles to pick me a dandelion or how he would sit him on his lap for a lawn mower ride.  As Myles got older, I witnessed my dad be his greatest cheerleader.  From going to to every sport event and even taking him to the park to shoot baskets.  

Dad and mom was there every day for Will too when he was born.  Will had to spend a while in the NICU, but dad and mom came to the hospital every day, even though they couldn't see Will yet.  They came to show me love and support.  I really felt the love of my parents during that difficult time.  When my parents were finally able to meet him, they had to go through this process of washing hands from elbow down for a certain amount of time with a special soap.  To watch my dad do this, brings back such fond memories.  He gladly did what the hospital required so he could go into this little room to see his grandson laying in a box hooked up to all of these tubes.  He was also Will's biggest cheerleader, talking softly to him telling him to get strong so he could come home and teach him to fish.  And that he did indeed.  Dad has taught Will so many things, and of course fishing is one of them.  

The last 13 years, I have had the wonderful experience of seeing my boys make memories with their grandpa (my silver lining).  They have traveled with dad, learned to fish, mushroom hunt, and share moments that they will cherish forever.  They have spent every birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas together.  They have not known a first day of school without grandpa and grandma being there to wave them off.  They have spent countless hours in the garden with dad ever since they were toddlers.  They have never known life without my dad.

I am so proud of the 2 of them.  They know what is happening to grandpa.  They understand that he may forget their name, but in his heart he will never forget them.  He has too many wonderful memories to ever let that go.  And all though it is sad for them, they know that life with grandpa is different now.  They handle it better than I do at times.  They are gentle and kind with him.  They give him the same answer 100 times when asked without blinking an eye.  They don't giggle or get embarrassed when he wets himself at a baseball game. They are amazing boys.  

The other day Will asked me if grandpa will remember him when he goes to Heaven.  I told him absolutely he will.  I told him I believed that grandpa's dementia will leave his body for good once he goes to Heaven.  I truly believe this and for this, I am at peace.  

Time flies

(hard to believe this picture was taken 7 years ago,

I cry thinking about that moment, we had no idea what we were getting ready to face.)

"He is much more advanced in this than he was 6 months ago," the doctor told my mom. After routine testing, the doctor confirmed to my mom that dad's dementia had now progressed to Alzheimer's Disease. He explained to mom that it will progress even faster now and the decline in cognitive impairment and functioning is inevitable. In the beginning, the doctor told us that dad could be in this current stage of dementia for a while, maybe even a few years. So here we are, adjusting to our new normal and bam! We find out that our new normal is going to change again and probably even quicker than we think (or want).

At this moment, I can't think about what our new normal is going to look like. I can't think about the changes coming our way. And to be honest, I really just don't want to right now. Some may say I need to, and I know that in the upcoming weeks/months I am going to have to. There will be changes, new adjustments, and new normals. But for today, I am just going to let it soak in and look at the bright side of things...

The doctor tried to get my dad to talk during the appointment. He asked him several questions with no response from dad. Mom would say my dad was being stubborn, I would say my dad was hurting. I don't know if dad understands the extent of what is happening to him. But I can guarantee that he knows something is not right. I imagine that he heard a lot of words during that appointment that didn't sound uplifting or positive. But the doctor kept trying and when he asked my dad what his favorite meal was, he responded, "chicken fried steak."
My mom has never made chicken fried steak and for the last several weeks, my dad has eaten chicken fried steak when we go out for our weekly lunch date. (silver lining).