Posting all of my writings about my dad's Alzheimer's on this blog has opened a scab. One that doesn't heal. I am good at pretending that things are okay. I am good at hiding my head in the sand. It's a talent I have nutured, but right now it is late at night (or early in the morning, depending on perspective), the house is quiet, the town is sleeping, and I want my dad back.
I miss my dad so much. He looks at me and it isn't him anymore. At least he can still hug me tight and stumble over a whispered "I love you", but he is going away from me faster than I can accept. I don't go visit him like I should, and for this I feel guilty. I know one day I will be sorry I didn't spend more time with him, but it hurts. It hurts too much to be with him. I am selfish. Where is my dad?
There are some things about this nightmare trip with Alzehimer's I can't post here. Some things that would hurt my mom. I wonder if other Alzheimer's families hide the same things?
My poor mom. I need to help her more, but I am frozen into this damned inaction.
Oh sweetie, I wish there were something I could do to make the long goodbye easier. My great-grandmother had some form of dementia, only back then they didn't know what it was. By the time her daughter (my great-aunt) developed it, it was Alzheimer's. And sadly, sometimes there is nothing you can do for them, because they don't recognize that it's an act of love. What they see is a stranger in their space, and primal nature kicks in. There's a part of me that believes that in their deepest person, they KNOW they should know this person but can't make the connection and it kills them all the more.... just as much as it kills you (or another loved one) that they can't figure out the connection.
ReplyDeleteMy mother's BFF died of ALS, her husband has Alzheimer's now. I can't decide which is a worse disease.... they're both thieving sonsabitches to any family.
Prayers with you, friend.... <3