The first thing he asked me when we got seated in the front sitting room was if grandma was still alive. I lowered my head and shook it slightly, “no dad, she is in Heaven.” He then asked, “and dad?” Again, I shook my head and said “he is in Heaven too.” Tears slid down his cheeks. I didn’t ask him what was wrong because I already knew. He was thinking of his parents and missing them. Then dad said, “I wish I would have taken him golfing.” I didn’t know what to say, so I just sat there. What can you say to that?
It got me thinking though, I don’t want to have any regrets. I don’t want to miss out on any opportunities. I don’t want to look back and say “I wish I would have told this person this..”, or I wish I would have done this…” Truth be told, I am scared that I too will develop this horrible disease. I have seen my grandmother live with it and now I am watching my dad. It is hard for me to even write this out in words because I am 100% scared….to…death. There are times in certain moments where I am happy and proud, that I am brought to the reality that one day, that moment may never have exisited in my mind. And I will start to cry. But then I have to quickly pull myself together because I have to realize I am not just making memories for myself, but for those with me.
October 2024, we all knew dad’s disease was getting worse. My mom loves the beach and Dennis and I wanted to help mom and dad enjoy a beach vacation, with the heartbreaking reality knowing this may be there last beach trip together. The vacation was hard. Dad was confused most of the trip which in return made him irritable. I know it wasn’t his fault. I know that taking someone with Dementia out of there comfort zone for more than 2 days can be very hard on the person. Selfishly, I thought that maybe he would be ok as long as he had all of us. Plus, dad wasn’t walking around as good as he used to and that is an obstacle when you are on vacation. So there were no long beach walks up and down the shore looking for sea treasures. There were no early morning walks on the beach watching the sun rise, and definitely no beach walks at night to watch the sun set over the ocean. Plus, a horrible hurricane had ripped through Florida a few weeks prior to our stay, so the weather was not great. High winds, cloudy skies, and big waves. The beaches had been ripped to shreds as well and if there were any shells or shark teeth to be found, they were buried several feet under the sand.
We still wanted to take the boys on to the beach, to get their toes in the sand and feel the ocean breeze on their cheeks. One afternoon, we decided to take the boys to play around. It was a little chilly and over cast, but we braved it. The wind was crazy and it made the sand fly around. The sand stung as it hit our bare skin. The wind was so strong we could barely stand. I looked up towards the condo and noticed dad walking down the stairs towards us. He got over to me and we laughed at how hard the wind was and how the sand hurt hitting our faces. We spent a few minutes walking in a small area with our heads down hoping to find a little crab or other sea creature. The sound of the ocean waves hitting the shore. No words were needed. I think dad too, knew this may be his last time at the beach. I think he watched us out there and wanted to share in that moment. A silver lining plus a lesson learned almost a year later.
Dad had to have known in that moment, that he was making a memory with us. No regrets, no fear. He was going to brave that wind, the angry sand and search for sea treasures with us even if that meant he may never remember that moment again. What a gift to us. So for me, this is a lesson of bravery. As scared as I am to forget my past, I am more scared to not give my husband and children memories.
Dad is still teaching me, guiding me, and loving me. He is still the person I look up to, admire, and want to be like (minus the dementia). He is a wonderful human, a great teacher, and still my hero.
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