My Dad - A State of Wonder

8 years ago, the first signs of dementia appeared in my dad. What started out as mini strokes with him stating what he couldn’t remember has morphed into dementia where short-term memory rarely exists and daily functioning gets harder and harder.

While I never claim to be a memory loss expert, I do have direct access to one, my mom. My parents owned and ran care homes for Alzheimer’s and dementia in Florida for almost 30 years. Watching her, I have learned tips and tricks to navigate the disease and been fortunate to truly witness “in sickness and in health.” I hope to share my experiences in order to help you get through yours.

I’m a proud member of the sandwich generation and a reluctant member of the aging parents book club. So many of us are reading the same book, just in different chapters. Some have just started to hear about the book, some just bought the book but are scared to open it. Others on the last chapter and some even in the epilogue.

Regardless of what chapter you’re on, join me in this club - a club where discussion helps you feel less alone and your faster reading members graciously and willingly provide guidance and support.

With love and a big hug,

Laura

WONDER

What I used to wonder about:

I wonder when he won’t be able to drive anymore.

I wonder when he won’t be able to dress himself.

I wonder when he’ll wander out of the house. 

I wonder when he won’t be able to go to his “brain fitness” class. 

I wonder when he won’t be able to do sudoku or crossword puzzles anymore. 

I wonder when he won’t be able to play golf anymore. 

I wonder when he’ll get lost. 

I wonder when he won’t be able to live at home.

I wonder when he’ll fall. 

I wonder when he won’t be able to recall Scott, Elliott and Grant.

What I’m still wondering about.

I wonder when he’ll forget my name.

I wonder why his crazy, brilliant brain stopped working so brilliantly. 

I wonder if/when I’ll show signs of this disease. 

I wonder when they will find a cure. 

I wonder if medicines that slow down the progression of the disease are beneficial.

I wonder if part of my dad has already passed and just a small part of him is still here. 

I wonder what we could have done to prevent this. 

I wonder if knowing this disease could be coming my way would make me change parts of my life. 

I wonder the toll being the caregiver takes on the caregiver. 

I wonder if people know the power of long term care insurance.  

I wonder when we’ll get that final call. 

I wonder if in 30 years treatment for dementia will be drastically different. 

I wonder what we would do if we had the choice to help him transition to his next chapter. 

I wonder if he had seen less trauma in the Vietnam War if this would still be his journey. 

I wonder how I can help my parents most during this phase of their lives. 

I wonder how his illness could help others.

I wonder how his illness can help me. 

I wonder how I can use his illness to help others.

Thankfully, I will never wonder about his love for my mom, for me, and for my sister. That has been and will forever be very clear to me. 

8 years ago, my wonders led to more anxiety. The more questions and unknowns I dwelled on, the more fear and sadness I felt. The constant wondering of “What will we do when….?” is over.

Now, my curiosities are more philosophical and less logistical. And strange as it may be, those wonders are easier for me. Maybe that’s why I’m compelled to share our story now. I’m less scared and more at peace giving me strength to help you get there, too.