It's been almost two years since my dad was diagnosed with dementia. I suspected something was amiss, when we were trying to solve a plumbing leak in the old house in Anderson. Dad, an engineer and avid home improvement guy, looked at the water puddling up on the basement floor as it dripped down a wall that led all the way to the 2nd floor. He shrugged and cast his eyes aside. "Leave it alone," he concluded, "It will be fine."
Surely, the leak would not be fine, and of course, my father would never be fine again. The psychologist told us this could be the onset of Alzheimer's Disease. He warned us that we'd need to make sure he was under close watch from now on. I was shocked beyond belief, and depressed for my dad. I've never been that close to him. No one has in fact. My father's always been quiet, and to himself. There was no use trying to dialogue with him about anything. And now it would be even more futile to talk directly with him about this debilitating disease. He insisted that he was perfectly healthy and sane. Denial is always a sign.
My parents soon moved into a condo close to our house. I was scared that dad would lose all that was familiar to him and quickly slide into a slippery descent of solitude. The winter of '08-09 was a tough one for dad. Since he could still drive, he'd sometimes go visit the old house, which was up for sale, just to sit there by himself. I really wish I could hear what was going on his head. Soon, we had to take away the keys after he was getting into trouble loitering in his favorite stores. I cried when we took away his car for good, and he sulked quietly all to himself in his room for a few days.
When he learned late last spring that his eldest sister passed away, he disappeared for a day, leaving us frantically searching all around Mason. We found him in the county jail having been picked up for opening a can of beer at the local Wal-Mart, grieving in his own subtle way. Wal-Mart dropped the charges when they learned he was a dementia patient. My mom has been in a constant state of worry ever since.
Then we caught our break. The community they moved into, though it's not a retirement community, has a lot of seniors living there. They look out for each other, and everyday, a group of folks gather together at the clubhouse for celebrations, football games, bingo, and mah jong (yeah mah jong). Dad started to tell me about his new friends. I'd stop by during the week to check in on them, and he'd rather hang out with his buddies Norm & Noel to have a beer on the porch. Dad and his friends like to cruise down the Field-Ertel strip like a bunch of teenagers. Now, they call each other "dawg" like they live in the hood or something. Yeah, it's a little weird sometimes, but I've never seen my dad so social... so open... so happy!
Sure, things aren't the same as they used to be. Dad's habits are a bit different, he eats sweets now, when he never used to touch candy. Now we have to hide the chocolate. He prefers to be out with his friends rather than loafing around the house watching TV. My dad's a lot more relaxed these days, that's for sure. And we're all sighing in relief, because now I know dad will be just fine!
Happy Father's Day Dad!
Love, your son,
Marvin
