Today I went to visit my dad in his LTC facility and he was eating a tuna sandwich.
I said “What on earth are you doing, Dad? I have known you my whole life and you have always refused tuna sandwiches. You told me they were for vacuous broads.”
He kept eating.
This was upsetting. He has stopped drinking coffee -he loved coffee. Stopped playing tennis and squash. Stopped swimming. Stopped writing and reading. He stopped working. He stopped engaging- and had always been an incredible listener and captivator. He stopped driving. He stopped dressing himself. He stopped living with my mom. It appears he has stopped walking. He has stopped saying things that made us laugh.
Today he could not remember my name. And he was eating a tuna sandwich.
A cold hand on your hand (mine are pastry-maker temp) and a warm cup of tea are waiting for you if you have time to zip over to Melrose.
I was just status-posting one of my favourite Fred Rogers quotes and I was thinking of you when I saw your facebook link.
I am thinking a lot of your mom too. Everything changes. Everything changes. Everything changes. And sometimes it’s so hard we need to seek a little something good to focus on to keep us afloat.
warmest feelings to you,
i
I know this day was hurtful for you and I’m so sorry. The lack of names is textbook, and altho we expected it, it is hard to accept. I wonder if he will know my name when I get back. Funny how something like a tuna sandwich triggers all sorts of other memories. Just remember the good ones,that’s what I try to do. xxmom
Oh Nancy, I can’t tell you how sad I felt reading this post. But can I just say something about the photo? I don’t know when you took it, but you look so much like your father. Just the happiness and joy in life that seems to be bubbling over in him, like the way I see you.
Your poor Soul Nancy. I can’t imagine. My mom and dad are here right now from St. T and I am so lucky . I do treasure every minute as i know they are not in good helaalh ,but they are both mentally sound at this point. So heart breaking for you and for all of us when we face the ailing and inevitable loss of our incredible parents.
Lots of hugs , love and happy New Year wishes.
Sue
PS Big day yesterday. More losses , but hopefully some limits and distance.
As with my father who had Alzheimer’s, he NEVER said my name after he entered K-wing,,,,but for 10 years, most days he had a big smile on his face when I came to visit. He may forget your name, but remember YOU.
Take heart and give him a hug.
love, Susan
Dear Nancy,
Yes, you must miss the dad you used to know. He certainly was a presence! Ken remembers some NOISY tennis games and I remember some even noisier dinner parties. It was fun.
Love to you all,
Marg.