Moving right along...

So doctor appointment this week that turned into a therapy session for Dad - that was a bit stressful, let me tell you!  Even though Mom's diagnosis of dementia (initially all about the big A, now the doc is actually saying it is more likely vascular dementia) was made back in 2004, we know she had cognitive issues as far back as 1997.  Still, Dad is still complaining that this wasn't what he expected in life.  Yes, I said complaining.  Here's where my mind is:

Mom and Dad retired in 1984.  Yes, they did...became snowbirds, going to their lovely home on a golf course in sunny southern Florida from January through May, and October through Christmas every year until 2012.  I see that as lucky and fortunate and fun.  They golfed, took cruises around the world, and lived what many would see as a good, if not great life.  It wasn't until last year that this ended.  Given health concerns for both, and the inability of Dad to care for Mom with no family close by, it was a necessary step to stay north, and let go of Florida.

Here, he has us, and the rest of the family, including my sister and her family.  He has his brother and sister-in-law, support from the CARES program at the senior center, good and safe senior housing.  His doctors are all here, and the landscape he loves and Mom is familiar with.  Dad has friends, support, regular routes to the stores (very important – he likes going to grocery stores!). 

Since they moved into senior housing, though, he just cannot deal with Mom.  He has less patience than ever, and sets Mom up to have episodes that he then calls us to fuss about.  The doctor saw the book that I made for him, with resources – what to do when…that kind of stuff.  Doc said that was good, and hoped he was using it (uh huh!). 

Dad loves his baseball cards, and Mom’s crying and loss of place means that he has to put the cards down for a few minutes to comfort her and distract her.  I go over to model this for him, and show him strategies to use, but he just won’t pay attention to her.  He complained to the doctor that we don’t help enough, that he doesn’t have respite time…even though Mom is in a program from 9 till 2 four days a week, and usually with my sister for a bit on the weekends.  It was a bit rough. 

I do feel for him, but he has his brain and his mind (well, I’m pretty sure it’s all there – just a bit old).  The glass for them is half full, for sure.  Over 35 years of fun in the sun, and athletic retirement with trips and golf and all sorts of events.  Mom remembers little of those days, and wants to go back to when we were little.  He lost his wife, yes, however we also lost our Mom.  I’m so lucky we had kids young.  They knew Mom when (funny glasses, singing great Broadway tunes, golfing, driving them over big bumps, swimming at the pool and beach), and they knew Nancy when she was the “Crazy Aunt” who did everything with them their Mom wouldn’t or couldn’t do.


Dad needs to know that he is not alone in the pain he has, and to look at memories with joy rather than sorrow.  Yes, I will say this to him at some point in the next few days, so he can perhaps catch a bit of reality on the wing.  

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