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Just wanted to let you all know that I am doing okay. I'm missing my dad more than I can say, since I have come to realize that he was the only person I spent time with, outside of work, for a very long time. He wasn't just my dad, he had become my best friend. And I miss him like fire. This was bad planning on my part, but I don't regret it. The
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So he stayed at the Care center for one more week and then on May 6, 2006? I got him HOME!
But...it wasn't the dad that had been there before. He was frail. He had never been actually "frail" before. Sure, he had not been able to do EVERYTHING he could do when he was younger, but....before all of this? He managed to do enough that he didn't feel useless. Now, he felt useless. He couldn't "fix" things around the house, and was reduced to directing me while *I* *fixed* *things*. He hated that. All of my life, he had taken care of ME...and now? I was taking care of HIM. It wasn't "the way things SHOULD be"...in his heart and mind. He fought it every step of the way, albeit with grace and love. But still...with stubborn disregard for his own safety. It was difficult. He hated having to use the walker. It wasn't that he didn't think he didn't need it, it was that he SHOULDN'T need it...and therefore, he SHOULD be able to find a way to NOT need it.
It drove my crazy. Nuts. Ballistic. Here I was, trying to keep him safe, to keep him WITH me...and there HE was, fighting me every step of the way. But I loved him so much. So very much. And he had given ME so much, for all of my life but especially since the loss of my mom. And I wanted to move in to make sure I could keep him safe, but I knew that it would make him even more demoralized and I couldn't DO that to him. It was a horrible mix of worry and love and frustration and exasperation and more love and friendship and laughter and....above all? Deep, abiding love. On both sides.
We fought about this. I forbade him to go down to the basement. There was no need for him to GO down there, I was there every day, either twice a day or ALL day, and could get anything he needed from there. It wasn't that he NEEDED to go down there...it was that he didn't want to admit that HE COULDN'T DO IT SAFELY.
All of my life, my daddy had BEEN there to take care of me if I needed him. Now, I was taking care of HIM. That was perfectly fine with me, but it wasn't perfectly fine with HIM.
I had been going over every day since mom died, but now I went over before work and then after work I spent the evening with him. I work 7-5 Mon-Thurs. I spent weekends with dad. He loved having me there, but he still wanted to have his independence...and I WANTED him to have it, since it was so important to HIM. So, I didn't officially move in...but that time was coming. And dad knew it, as did I.
We had a WONDERFUL summer. I drove him all over the place. He liked to go for drives and every weekend we'd do "road trips" and ever since mom died, we'd done that every Sunday. And when I was on vacation? We did longer "road trips". To the Peninsula, to Canada...all over the place. But...last summer, he just wasn't up to the long ones. But now, we did it on Saturday as well. It was such a good summer. I am so grateful for that.
So then, dad died.
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My heart, on the other hand? Isn't buying it. But I know it is only a matter of time. I missed and mourned my mother so deeply for so long...and time eased the hurt.
But...this is different. I was always very present in my mom's life. We had a very good relationship. I loved her beyond reason. BUT....she wasn't my best friend. DAD was her best friend, and I had/have one of my own. After mom left? *I* became dad's best friend. And even though MY best friend Cindy has hung in there with me? Dad became MY best friend as well. Thank God Cindy loved me enough to remain my best friend, through all of these years when I wasn't THERE for her unless she was in crisis or something. And I WAS there for her in those times, but honestly....it takes a soul deep connection to maintain that kind of friendship through this kind of time. With no day-to-day "passing the time" kind of stuff. When it comes down to "only in crisis" do I call you? Friendship can wither on the vine. Unless it is soul deep. And Cindy and I ARE soul deep.
My father, over the past 9 1/2 years? Had become my best friend and the main focus of my life. In one horrible day? I lost my daddy, my best friend and the main focus of my life. It hurts, and it stinks, and I am miserable.
Still? I have no regrets. Underneath how miserable I am? There is peace. And peace is an absolutely awesome place to live.
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When my mom was dying with terminal cancer, pancreatic cancer, I moved "home" to take care of her.
One of the things mom had always said to us when things were difficult was "There is always someone worse off than you are. You have been given a gift. You have people who love you. Your dad and I? We LOVE you. And we will always love you, and we'll be THERE for you. Lots of people have no one to love, no one who loves THEM.
There is always someone worse off than YOU are. Remember that."
The last time she said that to me, she was dying. It was the middle of the night. Dying ends up with a lot of middle of the night stuff that happens/needs to be done. So this one night? I had done what needed to be done and I thought that mom had gone back to sleep. And I was sitting there, watching her (I thought) sleep..and crying. Crying because I wasn't ready to lose her, didn't WANT to lose her, didn't think I COULD lose her without losing my mind but knowing that I was going to HAVE to do it and knowing that somehow I WOULD do it because of all that she had taught me. No matter how hard it was going to be.
And then she opened her eyes and said "Honey, why are you crying?" And I was sitting there looking at her dying, and my first instinct was to say "Sheesh, mom.....you are dying. And I'm not ready to lose you, and I am sad and angry and upset....and you ask me WHY I AM CRYING? GIVE ME A BREAK!" But instead I said "Mom...you are leaving me and I love you and I don't want to lose you."
And she said "Honey, there is always someone else worse off than you are. You know that. I love you. I wasn't a perfect mother, but I did the best I could because...I love you. More than you will ever know." And then she drifted off to sleep.
And you know, at that time I didn't "get" it, not at ALL. I thought about it, her saying it, and it just ticked me off. I thought to myself "Mom? you are DYING on me. Don't tell me how there is always someone else worse off than *I* am. Because there is NO ONE ELSE worse off than me at this point. I am miserable and bereft and how can you say that there is anyone else worse off than ME?
I SO did not understand this.
Until after mom died.
One day I learned that a lady who was very present in my life while I was growing up and had been very present in my life since mom died had been diagnosed with Alzheimer's. I went to visit her several times and then she got worse and went into a Care Facility. I visited her there several times, and we had...actually..a rollicking good time. She knew me and we revisited some funny stuff that had happened that we both remembered and good times were had....in the remembering. Then one day I went to visit her and......she didn't recognize me. It wasn't that she knew me but couldn't remember my name. It was that she no longer knew she even knew me. I was a stranger to her. I thought my heart was going to break.
I couldn't bear it. I kept it together while I was with her, but after I left? I got in my car and sobbed for so long my eyes swelled shut.
And I realized then that my mom was right. There IS always someone worse off than you are. My mother? She knew who I was until the very moment of her death. She couldn't talk anymore, but when she looked at me? She saw ME. She couldn't talk, but she was still in there, and she was still HER. AND...when she looked at me? She knew it was ME she was looking at.
I'll always be so grateful for that.
Dad....I talked to him at noon and someone left him a message at 1PM...if he'd been alive, he'd have answered the phone. The last things we said were "I love you dad, I'll see you after work" and he said "I love you too, see you then." It isn't much, but it is something.
Truth is? I don't know that I have enough strength to handle what you are having to go through. I don't know that I could handle looking into the eyes of my mother and have her look at me as though I was a stranger. I'm so glad that your mom still recognizes you, that she still knows that you are present in her life. I pray that this continues to be true.
I don't think I could handle someone I love fading away from me with Alzheimer's. I'm not that strong. I'm just not.
You are in my prayers.
My Love,
Cheri
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