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May 16, 2005
Daddy's Little Girl
I was lucky. I was born the middle child which is supposed to be a rough spot in the sibling order of things, but I'm the only girl. That gave me an edge over my brothers. I have always had my father wrapped around my little finger. I was spoiled. Now I'm losing him.
My dad has Alzheimers. He was diagnosis with it about 4 years ago. I've watched his slow progression into this world. I've watched his frustration and pain with knowing he was getting worse and not being able to control his descent. I've watched his world become more and more limited. My dad who once could fix anything, now still trys. He takes things apart, but can't remember how to put them back together. He now can't find his way up the driveway to the mailbox and many times gets lost in the house.
He now also has Cancer. Treatment is not recommeded in his case. The Cancer is going to kill him.
The good news, so says the doctor, is that it's a better way to go than Alzheimers. That may very well be. He won't slip off so far that he becomes a total shell of the person he was. He also doesn't feel the pain of the Cancer because that part of his brain is no longer functioning.
It's that age old issue of Quality vs. Quantity. He's 86 so he's had the Quantity and the Quality of his life has eroded so much over time and will only continue to do so. Sounds so simple. Sounds so easy. Until emotions get in the way....and they sure get in the way.
Last week as I sat at their kitchen table crying over my Girl Gone Wild, scared about the choices she's making that I can't stop, he stood behind me with his hands on my shoulders for a long time. Supporting me. Giving me comfort. Him, telling me that things will work out.
I'm a jumble of emotions. I'm scared about not having him in my life. I worry about my mother. I fear my own future, children of Alzheimers patients have a 25% greater chance than the general public of having it. I worry about how he's dealing with it...or if he's capable of dealing with all this.
Memories of my childhood have been flooding back. Sailing with my Dad. Nagging him to teach me how to operate the big machinery at the family business. Helping him fix things...which consisted of my holding the tools. Dad chasing off a young man he found unsuitable to be in my company. Giving me and my kids tractor rides around the farm in the front end loader.
I got my love of gardening from him. He could get anything to grow. When I was a teenager I had this Baby's Tears plant. I managed to pretty much kill it. It had one green leaf left. Dad brought it back to life.
My Dad is dying and I have to learn how to accept this.
Posted by aster1961 at May 16, 2005 07:33 AM
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