OK so this is a REALLY hard one. It is also a "white board" topic.
I am not sure where this entry will take me. I am also not sure if I am ready for this. I am going to try.
My Dad, my father was awesome. He was hard ( when he had to be) , he was soft ( when he knew needed to be).
My Dad....mostly made me laugh...I could get away with saying bad words. What? you ask? For example, I may have been 13 or so.... Mom had gotten all of this cow meaner. We were in the garden, busting open the bags..... I was SO not into the job. I said out loud, "Why do I have do deal with the composted cow SHIT"? Dad laughed....Mom, did not. Mom yelled at dad for encouraging such behavior. I KNEW, I had mom's goat. So I repeated, "Cow SHIT", many times.
Dad laughed, mom did not. After all, a "lady" does not speak that way.
My dad raised a tom-boy....I would not have it any other way. I could not wait to be able to ride the mower, instead of push it around the trees.
I went golfing with my dad and my brothers...I was MUCH younger. My dad gave me one of his clubs. There was a 3 par golf course not far from our summer home. I guess I was probably hyper active. Dad said, " Run up and hit your ball"...he said that over, and over again.
I went so often golfing with them that dad, eventually bought me a Jr. set of clubs. It was so cool for me.
I continue to write as tears stream across my face.
Dad, and I had a weekly Wednesday fishing trip. It started when I was about 14 until college. We would get sandwich fixins', and sodas. I could work ski's, and down riggers better than anyone.
He sold the boat after my freshman year in college. That was hard to take. See past entries.
My dad is great. I love him so much.
How do you handle a parent that is still physically here, but mentally NOT?!
Dad and I would speak quite often the last several years (10 or so
) Sometimes, maybe 3 times a week.
He was diagnosed with Alzheimer's probably over 6 years now. He refused to admit he had it for almost 2 years.
Our calls continued for a year or so...I begged him to take meds. Anytime that I brought up the subject, he would just hang up on me.
I am not sure that dad even knows who I am anymore. I know he knows he has children, and their names.
I called home a couple of weeks ago. I called to say I was layed off my job. My Brother answered. (Thank God he is there to help), I spoke briefly to him, but he had to go and pick up his g/f from work.
I then talked to Dad. I told him I was, a bit blue. I told him I lost my job. He sounded mostly normal. He then offered the advice to me...."That I should find a good man". My heart sank. This was no longer my father. This was no longer my pillar. I responded, " DAD...Remember DH"?
I learned that dad is REALLY no longer there.
So my question is...."How do we mourn the living"?
I am not sure where this entry will take me. I am also not sure if I am ready for this. I am going to try.
My Dad, my father was awesome. He was hard ( when he had to be) , he was soft ( when he knew needed to be).
My Dad....mostly made me laugh...I could get away with saying bad words. What? you ask? For example, I may have been 13 or so.... Mom had gotten all of this cow meaner. We were in the garden, busting open the bags..... I was SO not into the job. I said out loud, "Why do I have do deal with the composted cow SHIT"? Dad laughed....Mom, did not. Mom yelled at dad for encouraging such behavior. I KNEW, I had mom's goat. So I repeated, "Cow SHIT", many times.
Dad laughed, mom did not. After all, a "lady" does not speak that way.
My dad raised a tom-boy....I would not have it any other way. I could not wait to be able to ride the mower, instead of push it around the trees.
I went golfing with my dad and my brothers...I was MUCH younger. My dad gave me one of his clubs. There was a 3 par golf course not far from our summer home. I guess I was probably hyper active. Dad said, " Run up and hit your ball"...he said that over, and over again.
I went so often golfing with them that dad, eventually bought me a Jr. set of clubs. It was so cool for me.
I continue to write as tears stream across my face.
Dad, and I had a weekly Wednesday fishing trip. It started when I was about 14 until college. We would get sandwich fixins', and sodas. I could work ski's, and down riggers better than anyone.
He sold the boat after my freshman year in college. That was hard to take. See past entries.
My dad is great. I love him so much.
How do you handle a parent that is still physically here, but mentally NOT?!
Dad and I would speak quite often the last several years (10 or so
) Sometimes, maybe 3 times a week.
He was diagnosed with Alzheimer's probably over 6 years now. He refused to admit he had it for almost 2 years.
Our calls continued for a year or so...I begged him to take meds. Anytime that I brought up the subject, he would just hang up on me.
I am not sure that dad even knows who I am anymore. I know he knows he has children, and their names.
I called home a couple of weeks ago. I called to say I was layed off my job. My Brother answered. (Thank God he is there to help), I spoke briefly to him, but he had to go and pick up his g/f from work.
I then talked to Dad. I told him I was, a bit blue. I told him I lost my job. He sounded mostly normal. He then offered the advice to me...."That I should find a good man". My heart sank. This was no longer my father. This was no longer my pillar. I responded, " DAD...Remember DH"?
I learned that dad is REALLY no longer there.
So my question is...."How do we mourn the living"?
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