my dad has alzheimer’s. and while this isn’t a particularly well-kept secret from people who know me, it’s something i’ve consistently refrained from writing/ blogging about. to be honest, even now, i’m not sure i’m going to publish this post.
when my dad was first diagnosed as having alzheimer’s-related dementia, i did my usual search for related resources, both online and off. however, i couldn’t bring myself to read alzheimer’s blogs because they were just too heartbreakingly depressing.
it’s over two years since then, and a lot has happened in that time. most notably, my parents have moved out of the city i grew up in, and to a quiet, green, lovely little colony, occupied mostly by retired people. i moved back to live with them last year. and my dad, slowly, but pretty certainly, has gotten worse.
we now have a companion for him during the day — this will need to be extended to fulltime help in a while, as my mom is already running herself ragged.
the two of us have gotten closer than before, and together, we’re running what feels like a ph.d. course in optimisim. her thesis subject would be a million different ways to say but at least he isn’t getting worse. mine, how to make one single, bright, semi-lucid moment last till the next, while ignoring the time that passes in between.
today, i read a couple of caregiver blogs. knowitalz. tangled neuron. never goodbye. had a dad. really tough, especially the last two.
many people have said that the worst thing about alzheimer’s is the way it robs you of your identity. my dad has always been a cheerful, wisecracking, endlessly patient man who loves the good life. alzheimer’s has leeched away so much of that.
i believe the only way to keep your head screwed on when dealing with an illness that takes away someone’s memories is to hang on to the ones he’s given you.
