Blue Christmas

The most important work you and I will ever do
is within the walls of our own homes.
~H. B. Lee

I went "home" for Christmas. I hadn't seen Daddy in six months; an eternity in Alzheimer's. I was nervous and stressed beforehand, dreading what I would find at the other end of the plane ride. A very wise friend asked me why I was so apprehensive about seeing my father. I replied that I was afraid he wouldn't recognize me. My friend's response was "Well, YOU know who HE is, don't you? And you know who he was." The thought stopped me in my tracks.

I DO know who he is, and I know who he was. That's what hurts so much. Such a wonderful, vibrant, loving man to be brought to the place he is now just destroys me.

No, Daddy didn't know my name, at least not most of the time. He certainly recognized that I belonged to him, but he obviously couldn't connect my face to my name. It's like that with everyone, now. He's lost a lot more communicative language; his verbal abilities have severely declined over the past months that I've been away. He is mostly incontinent now, and his bed changing many mornings. He is impossibly frail -- a tiny, shrunken, fragile soul who looks as if a halfway decent breeze would knock him over. Mother still gets frustrated and yells at him, talks down to him, and refuses to cater to him. Pisses me right the hell off, too.

Going "Home"

“Where we love is home, home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.”
Oliver Wendell Holmes

I have been away from Daddy for 5 1/2 months, ever since I moved 1600 miles away from "home". I came to this place in July; it is now December. Tomorrow I am getting on a plane to go back "home" for Christmas. I use the quotation marks intentionally.....while I am truly HOME here, in this beautiful, magical place I have chosen, my family still considers my home to be where they are. Sigh.

So why am I so conflicted about this trip? Why am I sitting here, 12 hours before my flight, dreading the fact that I am leaving? Part, I know, is that I am happy here, and productive, and free to be the me I have always been meant to be. A larger part, though, is having to see Daddy. And Mom.

Daddy's illness has always caused me emotional and mental pain. That pain escalated over the past winter, until by spring I was almost insane with it. Tonight, I feel the pain as a physical manifestation -- my stomach aches, and I have a real pain right in the area of my heart.

I know, intellectually, that Alzheimer's is a progressively degenerative disease. I've certainly seen first-hand how he has gotten worse and worse over time. I think I am sick now because I am afraid to see how the illness has ravaged him in the months since I've been gone.

I know his memory is worse, and I know he is now fairly incontinent. I am sure he is more frail, I am sure he is less verbal. These things I am fairly sure I can cope with. I can probably even cope with Mom's negativity and criticism. I will only be there for a few days, after all, and I am a a grown woman.

If I am honest, I must admit that what is knocking me out right now is the possibility that Daddy may not recognize me. The thought terrifies me. Even though I spent so much quality time with him last winter and spring, and said my goodbyes to him in my mind, I know my heart will break if I get there and he doesn't know who I am.

Life is hard.