It used to be easy to blog daily because for a while I was a computer trainer and I lived on the computer 24/7 continuously looking for new stuff for the computer students to do. But the past nine months have been tough. Our family is unusual. We have so much drama, responsibilities and things to do list. Saturday week ending March ninth , I woke up early to read 30 day old mail, pay bills, check accounts, shred papers, file and sort everyone’s stuff. I managed to run errands outside of the home doing these things: go to Bank of America, call BB&T bank rep, write a letter to the BRW civic association, download a document from the North Carolina Courts,get some forms notarized, mail stuff off, check on tickets at the Warner for the play, “My Brother Marvin”, purchase three belated birthday cards, return two CARMD devices, go to TD Bank, order a Square.com and meet with tax preparer. I did it all! Hubby took dad to get a haircut at the barber.
Sunday approached and we prepared for church. Dad’s wash cloth was dry and we knew he had not washed before getting dressed for church. Hubby suggested a light wash-up for dad but nothing happened. I told dad he needed to wash and that is when the bull struck the matador. Dad raised his eyebrows, pointed his hand and told me where to go. Dad said he had washed and no one was going to tell him he had not. I let dad feel his “dry” wash cloth and he still stuck with his story. He did not notice that the wash cloth was dry. It never dawned on me that maybe dad could not see the wash cloth clearly enough to distinguish that being his cloth. Maybe dad thought we just took one out of the linen closet to aggravate and harass him. We all tried to convince dad to wash. We all forgot that we had entered into Dementia World. No rhyme or reason was going to matter at this point. Nothing we said or did mattered, because dad had made up his mind and he said he had washed. Seconds later, dad said he was going to stay home and not go to church. Hubby and I at that point informed the family and proceeded to continue dressing for service. Curt had fixed breakfast. Curt got a bowl of oatmeal and a spoon. I grabbed some yogurt. We headed to the door and dad followed us to the car and got in. Dad, Curt and I made it to church one hour and fifteen minutes late even with daylight savings time and we were able to pick up my friend Theresa who wanted to ride with us! As I sat in church, I could hear the morning discussion that dad, hubby and I had just had. I could envision a little kid placing hands over his ears and saying, blah! blah! blah! and I smiled. Dad didn’t do that, but I felt like we acted like kids. One of the things the family counselors tell us and in all of the reading materials about Alzheimer and Dementia, is that caregivers, adult siblings cannot become parents to their ill parents. That is a thin line especially when you are trying to care for someone.
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