Written February 25, 2023 – Posted March 3, 2023

My family and I have watched my father fade away for the past 5+ years now and we have grieved the loss of the man that he was as we painfully watch him change to the man he is today.  In the beginning, we noticed small things like he may repeat himself a couple of times, or that he was struggling to remember where a piece of kitchenware went.  We often chalked it up to “old age”.  I mean, we all forget things sometimes, right?  However, as the years progressed, we noticed it getting worse, and then worse.  It went from an occasional mishap to a daily ritual, and then an hourly, until the forgetfulness was something that occurred every few moments.  Dad’s doctor stated that what was happening to dad was what they called “Hardening of the Arteries” back in the day, but the Medical Term for it is Vascular Dementia. 

Dementia is a sad disease, it robs the person suffering from it not only from their daily routine, and their memories, but it begins to slowly erase all the things they used to know and do.  What we noticed with my dad was that he was continuously checking things such as the coffee pot, to make sure that he had prepared the coffee for the next morning.  He would check and fill his pill pack each day, I’m sure in fear of missing a day of taking his medicines and supplements.  He would check his calendar repeatedly, making sure he knew what year it was, or what day it was, checking his notes to see if he had a doctor’s appointment or something else to do that day and even then, he would miss those appointments anyways, because he would forget them by the time the appointment had been scheduled for.  It quickly progressed to forgetting where things were, making driving a challenge.  He couldn’t remember where to turn to get to church, the doctors, the grocery, the golf course or to get his haircut.   You see, my father has lived in the same home, in the same town for 50+ years.  These tasks, these actions, such as driving to the grocery store, were once tasks that were second nature to him and something he could have done in his sleep.  However, today, these are the tasks that he is no longer able to perform and because of that his independence has slowly been taken away from him and keeping him at home. 

Let me share what I’ve noticed other than the obvious things I mentioned above, that my father has lost his smile.  Now don’t get me wrong, for anyone that knows my dad, they will say that he was not the talkative one in the bunch, that was the mom, Nicky, and myself.  He was often the guy who sat quietly in the corner observing all that was going on around him.  He did love a good joke, or telling a funny story, and would often share a deep belly laugh that would just light up the world.  But in recent years, my family and I watched my dad grow smaller in that space, and you could see that he was often struggling to follow the conversations, or he couldn’t remember what family member we were talking about, even when that family member was his sister, Sue, or her husband, Doug.  One of the things that dad seemed to always remember is the story of his childhood friend, Carl and when he signed up for the Marines.  In fact, we often now reference how dad was today by how many times he told the “Carl story”.  I promise we aren’t being mean when we reference it that way, we are being honest with that becoming our reference for how much time there was between moments when he would repeat himself with this story. 

I’ve looked at family photos with my dad from the past 4-5 years and in those photos you see that he no longer smiles.  He goes from smiling to just staring blankly at the camera, almost as if he’s not sure what he should be doing for the picture.  This is what I mean when I say that he’s “lost his smile”.

I went home a few weeks ago for Nicky’s 50^th birthday and to stay with my dad to allow my mother some time-off.  Trust me when I say, dementia is worse, much worse, for the caregiver because as the caregiver you are on constant alert watching everything they are doing and trying your best to protect them from the world around them.  Simple tasks such as opening a door, stepping over a threshold, walking up a couple of stairs, going to the bathroom, getting showered, dressed, or changed are no longer simple tasks, but instead often these tasks are dangerous pitfalls that can causing the person suffering with the disease to lose their balance, slip and fall, which my father has done many, MANY times in the past and even more so recently.  Other tasks like microwaving a bowl of soup, making a sandwich, opening a drawer, pouring a cup of coffee, remembering to take medicine, etc. are tasks that the person with dementia can no longer do for themselves and require help to do them.   To put it into perspective it’s more than just forgetting how to do these things, it’s more than that because they forget if they have eaten or not, so they no longer eat.  They forget if they have showered or not, so they no longer shower.  They forget if they have changed clothes today, so they wear the same clothes over and over for many days.  The list goes on and on, as you can imagine.

The changes, the loss of this person, is harder for their family members because WE are the ones that know what is happening.  My dad has been in his own world for a few years now.  A world that during moments like when he’s sharing the “Carl Story” we know that we are connecting with him and even those moments are fading quickly.  Like I said earlier, I went home a few weeks ago and stayed with my parents for 10 days and during those 10 days I can tell you this: 

• Dad didn’t know who I was when I arrived and while I was there, I believe he knew who I was, but if I left the house, even if that was for 10 minutes to run to Publix for milk, he was surprised when I returned because he couldn’t recall I had been there for the past week.
• Dad fell coming upstairs to bring Mom and I the mail.
• I had to help dad change his clothes and encourage him to get a shower.
• Dad couldn’t remember where mom went, even though she told him before she left and she called and spoke to him, which he could not remember less than 5 minutes after that happened, insisting she did not tell him where she was going.
• And . . . Dad did not share the “Carl Story” with me, not even once.

My family has quietly suffered with knowing that we are losing my father a little each year, each day, and now it seems as if it’s each minute.  We have known that we would be his memories and it is on us to fill in the gaps and empty space where his mind can no longer access his thoughts.  We know that soon he probably won’t remember who we are.  Many of you have said to us, how sorry you are for this, and how hard this must be for us, and it is.  But I want you all to know, that even though he may not know who we are, WE still know who HE is, and because of this he will always be:

• Pat’s husband for 50+ years
• Brick, Nicky, and Tracy’s Dad
• Phillip, Scott (yes, my ex-husband Scott) and Mano’s father-in-law
• Crystal, Kendall, Tanner, Nick, and Christian’s Grandfather
• Sage’s Great-grandfather
• And . . . possibly your cousin, your friend, your small group member, your golfing buddy, your former boss, or whoever Larry Thompson is or was to you.

So, the most current chapter in our story begins with the fact that dad was admitted yesterday (Friday, February 24, 2023) to a Memory Care facility in Tarpon Springs.  My mom couldn’t bear to be the one who took and left him there, so he admitted to the hospital to be observed due to his falling where he stayed for a few days and was then transported from the hospital to the facility.  We will not be seeing him for a few days to give him time to make the transition, to learn his way around his new home, and to make some connections with the people there that will be caring for him.  The early reports from the nurse and the administrator is that he was smiling and cheerful when he arrived and that the ladies who work there gave him lots of attention which pleased him greatly.  He ate 2 good meals, walked around looking at the place and finding his way around, learned where his room is and how to unlock his door, and finally sat with other residents listening to music from the 50’s and 60’s along with them.  This made us very happy because we want him to have the best life he can possibly have for whatever time he has left.

As my family and I move forward in this journey, please keep us in your prayers, as each day presents itself with new decisions and challenges.  Please pray for God’s mercy and peace for my father as he fades even father into the unknown darkness in his mind.  Pray for guidance and discernment for Mom, Nicky and I as we continue to support and provide dad with all the best he deserves each day.

For anyone else suffering with dementia in their family, we want you to know that we see you and know what you’re going through.  We want to offer our prayers for guidance, for peace and for God’s provisions as you (and your family) walk this journey together. 

We know that it takes a village to continue marching forward, and to our village, we say “Thank you” and we want you to know that “We love you all”.  You know who you are.

Xo,

Tracy