Finding Acceptance and Humor In Alzheimer's Disease

My eighty-six year old father has Alzheimer's Disease. I'm not really quite sure when it started but its been at least 9 or more years since we started seeing the signs. At first I remember reassuring him that we are all forgetful at times. He worried a lot about not remembering things he knew he should and he would carry a small note pad and pencil in his shirt pocket to write down names, book titles, important dates and the like. I was in denial. Even though I was telling him some memory loss was normal I was becoming painfully aware that he really couldn't remember things. I would have to tell him the same thing over and over again within the same conversation. He would only stop fretting about it once I told him I would tell Debbie, my step-mother, and she could remind him. At that point he would be relieved. As it is with Alzheimer's, the disease progressed and I begin to wonder how I would come to terms with it. He had always been so sharp, so knowledgeable, so much the patriarch of our family. I've had a lot of conversations with myself in my head about how this reality would play out for our family. Largely I think we have all tried to ignore it. I'm including here a link to a recent article that appeared in the Sacramento Bee about a woman who is caring for her husband who has advanced Alzheimer's. I think it is a really important read for any family and I hope anyone reading this post will also read the Bee article http://www.sacbee.com/opinion/editorials/article4453293.html.

However, even though having a family member with Alzheimer's is pretty darn depressing, that is not what this post is about. What I decided about how to handle my dad's disease was to accept where he was at this point in his life and this given day. It wouldn't change anything by fighting it. This is where dad's life had taken him. I would just take each day with him as it came. Some days are better than others. Debbie is the sole care giver for my dad and I have no doubts there are some very bad days (and nights). What the family has discovered about "dad" these days is that while it appears he may not be tracking, he comes up with some pretty funny one liners in a conversation where you think he isn't paying attention or you think maybe the conversation is lost on him so you might not even be looking at him or listening to him. That would be a mistake on your part because you will miss some very funny stuff. I started writing some of his funny quips down, because guess what? unless I write them down, I forget them, ugh!!! I can only hope I'm as funny as my old man as I get older. So, let me start with a few recent full-on belly laughs that have happened recently.

Daddy celebrates 86 years January 2015

 

We got a late start on celebrating dad's birthday this year but finally found a Saturday where he and Debbie and Ted and Dean and I could meet at an upscale brew pub called "The Yard House." We had a nice lunch and they brought daddy his complimentary dessert. He does love his sweets these days. After dessert he opened his birthday cards.












Dean and I gave him a card with a wolf on the front. Debbie leaned over to help him read it and he seemed very pleased. Debbie said something like, "maybe you should give out a wolf howl to celebrate your birthday?" Dad looked around the restaurant and said, "I don't think I should howl too loud in here." To which Debbie replied, "Well, just howl softly." Dad gave a frown and said, "What kind of a wolf would I be if I only howled softly?" Truer words were never spoken. We all just looked around the table and laughed in agreement.

A week later I picked dad up at his house for an outing in Coloma and Placerville. As we headed out of the house Debbie looked up into the sky and saw a jet shooting across the blue expanse spewing out a robust jet stream. She said, "Hey Vic, there goes your jet for the day." She looked at me and says, "he tracks these jets everyday." Without a missing a beat dad pipes up with, "Well, it keeps me out of the bars." I honestly wonder what is going on in his head. He will tie his shoe while it's sitting on his lap or butter a single piece of bread for 15 minutes but he can come up with a one liner just like that!

We headed off down the back road of Hwy 49 toward gold country along the American River. It was a nice sunny Tuesday afternoon but since it was a work day and we were in the foothills there wasn't hardly any traffic on the road. As we were winding back and forth on the switchbacks dad commented a couple of times how the roads seemed so empty. We drove in silence for awhile and finally dad exclaimed, "where is everyone?" and then shouted, "follow me, for I am your leader." We both just laughed out loud.
Twenty minutes on the road brought us to Coloma and we stopped at the SierraRising Coffee shop. We ordered our coffee and pastry. Dad settled on a bear claw and I indulged in lemon pound cake. As we were waiting to pay dad noticed the delicious looking apple pie sitting on the counter. "Look at that." he said nudging me. "If we ate that" he said, "they'd be looking for us at the bottom of the river." Then, as if to predict what the conversation might sound like after we went missing he add, "what ever happened to those people?" I smiled imaging eating so much apple pie that I sank to the bottom of the American River with my dad never to be seen nor heard from again.

A few short miles up the road we ended up at the blacksmith S\shop at the James Marshall State Park, official site of the first discovery of gold in California. We talked to the crusty old dudes in the shop for about an hour and then headed toward the James Marshall Museum and gift shop. We strolled through quickly and then came upon a large glass case. There were several old artifacts inside. Each was marked with a detailed sign indicating what each artifact was. I glanced and began to move on. Dad however started to read out loud each card, "James Marshall's Rifle," James Marshall's Brand," James Marshall's glasses." James Marshall's foot bath." "WHAT, really?" I said, suddenly drawn back into the glass case to see if there really was a foot bath inside. Dad just laughed and laughed, "no, not really." Oh daddy, you got me!  We moved on into the gift shop. Right away we saw a hat that I thought really was a must have for dad.

He thought perhaps Debbie wouldn't like it too much so we passed. We did leave with a book on the gold rush though.

We finished the day off in Placerville with a nice lunch in an old historic building called The Brick. The bill came and I paid it and put the signed receipt back in the black folder. Before we got up to leave, daddy opened the black folder, placed his butter knife inside and closed it back up. I looked at him, we smiled at each other and left. I have no idea why the butter knife was placed there but I'm very certain in his mind, it had some very humorous significance.