For some reason I feel compelled to write this post tonight. I don't talk much about my dad since it's difficult to talk about his current circumstances. You see, my dad isn't the same man I knew as I was growing up. He lives in a hospital now, suffering from Alzheimer's disease. As part of the disease, he doesn't really talk anymore and doesn't walk either. I don't think he recognizes me when I visit either, so it's hard to make those visits.
Anyway, usually I confine my thinking about my dad to early in the mornings when I'm walking to work. It's a quiet time when I can be alone with my thoughts. Since I walk to work in the morning, the fresh air and exercise reminds me that I can't dwell on any thoughts for too long as I only have a twenty minute walk. Usually I feel like it's the only time I can really allow myself to feel what I'm feeling. I try not to let my emotions show too much with my friends or other family members. I don't really know why. I feel like I have to carry this burden myself and be strong for others. My mom and dad divorced a long time ago, and even though my mom probably would understand a little bit of how I feel (her own mother had Alzheimer's disease), it's different for her since she lived in a completely different country from her mother and didn't see the daily/weekly/monthly progression of the disease. I guess I also think that it's not fair to make my mom listen to the feelings I have about a man she divorced and doesn't love anymore? After all, she is remarried now. I don't often share my thoughts with my sister either. She has her husband now to share her feelings with, and I kinda feel like I don't belong in that family group anymore. I definitely don't feel like I can share my feelings with my stepmother because she already assumes so much of the burden of taking care of my dad. She visits him daily and helps to feed him and attends his care conferences. I don't want to add to her burden by sharing how I feel. My friends know about my dad, but I can't talk to them about my feelings either since I hate to show any kind of weakness or strong emotions in front of them. I usually take the role of "caretaker" and advice giver in my circle of friends and it's hard to picture myself taking the opposite role.
Anyway, today during my third class my students were listening to a song by Beyonce called "Listen". The song kinda reminds me of some of Whitmey Houston's songs, and that made me think of the movie "The Preacher's Wife". Then I remembered that when I went to see that movie with a friend, my dad was in the same theatre watching the movie too and we ran into each other on the way out! It was such a random, chance meeting and it was really special since we only got to see our dad on weekends after my parents got divorced.
I thought of my dad again during my lunch break as another teacher and I were talking about our skiing experiences and I remarked that both my parents enjoyed skiing when they were younger. That reminded me of a picture I have of a ski trip we took one year to Big White. My sister and I are on a tobaggon with my dad. He looks so young - he has hair! It's brown. He even has facial hair. (ALTHOUGH YOU WOULDN'T HAVE NOTICED THE ABSENCE, BLOGGERS, I'VE HAD TO STEP AWAY FROM MY COMPUTER FOR 15 MINUTES AS I WAS CRYING TOO HARD TO CONTINUE TYPING. I THINK I'LL BE OKAY TO CONTINUE NOW.) Now I'm remembering that one Christmas Eve, before my dad married my stepmom, we had Christmas Eve dinner at my dad's place. He lived in a converted "apartment" above the mechanic's shop he owned (it wasn't zoned to be an apartment, so it was very cold and made of concrete). We had fondue and went to Church. We decorated his place with candy canes. I also remember my dad taking me to Star Trek conventions, including two in Seattle! I remember being in a campground with my parents when I was really young and my dad taking me by the hand and walking me to the bathroom. I came out of the girl's washroom and turned in the wrong direction and got lost. I remember my dad and sister going out skiing and walking the Sun Run together one year. I wish I had gone too. My parent's came to my grad dinner dance and I got to dance with my dad . . .
You know Bindi Irwin, that cute little daughter of the Crocodile Hunter, Steve Irwin? Ever since he died, I can't watch little Bindi on tv. Every time I see her, I just cry. It's like that with the Amanda Bynes/Colin Firth movie "What a Girl Wants" too. Each time Amanda Bynes's character Daphne talks about not being able to dance the traditional father-daughter dance at her wedding, I think about how I'm never going to be able to do that either. It makes me cry every time. Then, at the end of the movie, when (for those of you who haven't seen it, I won't spoil it for you) we discover the happy ending, I cry even harder 'cause that's not going to be me.
I hate this disease! I hate that I'll never be able to walk down the aisle at my wedding on my father's arm. I hate that I'll never be able to dance with my dad. I hate that he won't be able to hold his future grandchildren in his arms. I FUCKING HATE IT! It's so bloody unfair! I know the politically correct thing to say is something along the lines of "I just count my blessings that I had a good father growing up. I'm so much luckier than all those people who didn't have a father, or who had abusive fathers." Even though that's true, that's not how I feel! I want my father back! I feel like Alzheimer's disease is a long, long, long period of mourning for the death of a person you used to know. At least when a person dies you can mourn and then get on with your life. With Alzheimer's disease, the person you love is gone, but their body is still there. Honestly, it's like living in purgatory.
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4 comments:
Hi Kim,
I agree with you AD is a terrible disease for everyone involved. It must be horrible to watch a loved one progressively decline to a point where they have lost so much of what made them special. It is the number one disease that I desperately fear happening to my family/friends. My uncle also has AD, but at a much less advanced stage. It is a huge life altering change for my aunt and of course very difficult to cope with. She has recently found that a support group has offered her some companionship and helped her make sense of the range of emotions that come up. I don’t know if you would consider something like that, but it might be worth giving it a shot you might be surprised. Anyways, you are a great daughter for sticking in there with your Dad, and keeping up with visits/thoughts.
Amy
Amy - thanks for your kind words! I have been thinking about looking into a support group. If I find one close by that I like I'll let people know! My thoughts are with your uncle!
Kim, I hear you. My dad died last week after a 10 year battle with early onset AD. It's exactly like you say ... a long process of grieving. I feel like I should be so much more upset because he just died than I actually am. The truth is I'm happy for him that he's not suffering anymore. The suffering was something I was never fully able to discuss with others either. It annoyed me on some level that my friends were 'surprised' at his passing, as if I hadn't been telling them for years about his decline. Still, there are things I witnessed that I will never fully tell anybody about. That's the real horror of this disease. Everything that made my dad who he was got smashed into obliteration a long time ago. Now I'm just left with this question, how do you grieve somebody who you wanted to die? I wanted my dad to die, I hoped for it, just so that he wouldn't be suffering anymore. Guess I just wanted to say that I hear you. It's beyond hard. The disease takes everything from you, even your ability to properly grieve. I feel pretty much the same way I always do, almost like it never even happened, and I think people expect me to act like he was hit by a bus in the prime of his life. The truth is, though his body went on, he really died a long time ago. I think that's very hard for people to understand. Wish I had answers. Hang in there.
Viv
Viv, thank you for your comment! I am sorry to hear about your dad passing, but in many ways I completely understand how you feel right now. This disease really does rob you of the natural grieving process. I am glad that I am not alone in these feelings!
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