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These are the good old days...
By juliezavala in My Turn
October 24, 2010

Image I have to remind myself that this Alzheimer's disease Dad has will not get better. I think I delude myself into thinking with the right diet, medication and exercise - and a whole lot of healthy laughter - he will get his thoughts and memories back. And then he does something that gently shakes me from this fantasy and back into the real world. But I'm dealing with it.

This morning I found Dad asleep in his easy chair. He was dressed in a shirt, sweater, underwear and cap. He had a rough night. His Southern Pacific jacket was lying on the bed; he was planning to go to work again. I had forgotten to lay out a pair of slacks for him so he had no pants to put on (not that he's let that stop him before). I've been slowly taking clothes from his closet and hanging them in the guest bedroom. Too many clothing choices seem to confuse him.

I brought him his pants and helped him dress. He drank a cup of coffee and looked at the newspaper for a little while. I heard him curse from the other room and I went in to check on him; he had spilled some coffee. We looked at the coffee stain on his pants and he said, "Oh, that won't hurt anything." I told him he always looks on the bright side. He said, "I have to or I'll cry," and then he laughed. I told him, "I know the feeling, Daddy."

He's asleep again in his chair. I've been checking on him every now and then to see if he's ready to wake up and eat or drink something.

A phrase ran through my head the other day like the Carly Simon song; these are the good old days. These are the days I will cherish later when he's a different Dad; a Dad who doesn't remember the fun and laughter we had together. And, like some of you have told me, when he's gone, I will have these blogs I'm writing to remind me of how lucky I was.