Memoria

Why the Starbucks cup at the beginning of a post on memory?  You see, once a week, at least, my dad and I have been hanging out at this well-known coffee shop and sharing our thoughts on the world, the past, and the future.  But you see, my dad is losing his memory.  Dads has the beginnings of dementia.  He has suffered small strokes and his short-term memory has been the victim of this.  A few nights ago a friend asked me how he was doing, and my reply was,"I cannot talk to you about this."  It's too much for me to discuss this subject with people, but I'd like to share about it here, through my writing - the humor, the pain, and the sadness.  It affects not only my father, but my children, my siblings, and especially my mom, who deals with it on a daily basis.

Dads walks very slow.  That's the first indication that something is amiss.  Am I used to this?  I'm getting there.  For someone like me who has the East Coast stride, walking slow takes a bit of adapting.  Perhaps slowing me down a bit is a good thing, seeing as most of the time I'm at 0-60.

The first wake up call was when he and I went to get salad. His assignment was to get mushrooms.

"What are those things you put on salad?"

"Mushrooms, Dads."

"You know?  Those things!  Those little things."

"Yes, Dads.  They're called mushrooms."

"Oh yeah.  Mushrooms."

I was in a panic.  Dads had forgotten the name for a simple item.  What scared me even more was the look on his face.  It was one of sadness, and fear.

How could I bridge the abyss? I can't.  I can only be there to help him along.  Dads can remember how to get to churches in Boston which he visited in his teens, yet he cannot remember why we need to buy his niece a card for her engagement.   But he is always, and forever will be, my Dads.  Our talks over coffee still bring forth his wisdom and hope, which I so need in a world which seems to change at lightning's pace.

I take Dads out for coffee and trips to the post office nearly every day.  My mom needs a break.  I know that people on the inside of it all can become tired, trying to cope with the care of someone with dementia.

I admire how she is handling it with humor.  Could I do it?  I don't know.  We are all trying - my mom, me, my brothers, their wives.  It's definitely a family effort.  And we do it because we love Dads so much.  

So the journey continues.  Each and every day is an adventure.  All I know is I'm glad Dads is along for the ride with me.  

xoxo MausiGal