Hanging on

Avoiding humiliation is the core of tragedy and comedy.
~John Guare

Tonight, Daddy got up from the kitchen table and came into the den, all by himself. Instead of using his walker, he was walking behind, and pushing, his kitchen chair.

Do I laugh at the absurdity of the situation, or cry at the unspeakable sadness?

Hello, Operator

Conversation should touch everything,

but should concentrate itself on nothing
~Oscar Wilde

I spoke to Daddy on the phone yesterday. Weird, but in a nice way.

I called there accidentally, thinking I had dialed my brother's house. Not too unusual since both he and my parents have the same phone exchange. When my brother's girlfriend answered the phone and told me he was in the shower, I wasn't surprised. When she asked if I wanted to speak to my father I was floored.

It turns out that I had inadvertently had called my parents' house. My brother was having plumbing issues, so he was showering at Mom & Dad's. Mother was at church. Daddy was sitting there when she answered, so I talked to him on the phone for a bit.

I haven't spoken to him on the phone in, quite literally, years. Above and beyond the Alzheimer's, he is as deaf as a stump. He had a hearing aide for a while, but it broke and hasn't been replaced. That's another whole story. Suffice to say, this was the first phone conversation we have had in longer than I can remember.

What amused me is that I am not hearing well, either. I've had cedar fever allergies that morphed into a raging ear infection, complete with fluid behind my eardrums. I can't hear out of my left ear for love or money, and only a bit out of my right ear.

So we chatted, mostly about nothing. He was having a snack before dinner, and when I asked what he was going to have for dinner he told me "Cheese Doodles". I suggested that something more would most likely be served, and he answered that he didn't know about that, since no one had told him anything about more food. I told him I was home baking a cake, and he asked me to bring him a piece. He asked where I was living, and when he heard I was 1600 miles away he said, "Well, I guess you won't be here tonight, then". Marvelous! A glimpse of Daddy's humor, not quite lost yet.


It was fun for both of us, and it made me happy. Some days are good.

Preparing

A man's dying is more the survivors' affair than his own.

~Thomas Mann

Daddy is dying.

Alzheimer's is called "The Long Goodbye" and with good reason. We have been saying our goodbyes, in various fashions, for years now

I was having a conversation with my friend, a sister of my soul, the other day. She was startled when I told her that I really don't ever want to return again to my "home" state. She knew my Christmas trip was distressing. but thought for sure that I would want to see my father again before he dies.

She doesn't/can't understand that Daddy is already dead for me. I have already said goodbye to him. That his body lingers has little or no meaning for me. This is not cruel, nor callous, nor unfeeling. On the contrary, my heart is broken.

The reality is that the months and months I spent with him last year were when I said goodbye to my dad. I spent good, solid, real time with him. He knew me, and we shared so many moments, and made so many memories. It is time and memories that I will be eternally grateful for.

His poor, frail body remains. He is no longer "living" in any meaningful sense of the word. He exists. His heart pumps, his lungs expand and contract. His mind is lost within the tangles and plaques of this horrid disease.

I will be heartbroken when his body finally gives up, but............I am ready.