(Often dad would great us on a morning with that ditty above! I looked at the date just now and realized that it's officially March here in Australia.)
Sorry... it has been a while since the last post... you must be wondering how we are doing here. Very busy, that's for sure. Life has seemed to pick up the pace lately, and things are happening in double time. The big news is that yes, dad has a new daughter-in-law... my brother did get married three weeks ago today. (Friday.) A tiny wedding on a stunning Sydney day - sandwiched in between two very stormy weeks! I scaled back on my schooling... the fast track was too fast and I wasn't getting to see dad like I wanted to. A couple of things happened and I realized I need to be there a couple of times a week. If not just to connect with his carer's, and with dad of course; to maintain a presence, as it were.
Some of the best advice I received about dealing with dad's illness was about connecting with his spirit; the essence of who he is. We can no longer communicate effectively with him: he has problems with his speech and with following and staying with a conversation. It used to upset and frustrate me that I couldn't talk with him. I've found myself more and more adapting to this new way of interacting with him, and making peace with it.
Tuesday afternoon this week was lovely and warm with a cool breeze blowing. I'd arrived at the care home just as they were serving afternoon tea. I managed to squirrel away some treats and drinks, which we ate out on the upstairs balcony. We had each other in stitches with some private jokes. Both of us had tears rolling down our cheeks. The brain is such a strange thing, of which I am learning more about every day. How can dad not converse with me, even to discuss recent events, yet his sense of humor is as sharp as ever, if not sharper!
He was telling me he wanted to ride his motorbike into Sydney... but that he would need a helmet with hair. A helmet with hair? (An interesting look.) He corrected it to a helmet with padding. A friend explained that dementia can be likened to a filing cabinet where the contents are misfiled or missing. The brain goes searching for a word and can't find it... or perhaps it transposes a word... hair for padding. It makes sense, kind of. That's why conversing with dad is such a struggle.... it takes a while to translate!
Anyway, I am starting to find the visits with dad to be more peaceful. In the middle of a busy day, in the middle of a busy life it's nice to slow down for a minute and consider what really matters. What's the rush with life? We should be so lucky to end up in a nursing home one day... why rush to get to it? Why not slow down and appreciate what surrounds us in the present.
When I went to leave dad, he thanked me very much for coming. It indicated to me that the visit had somehow been extra special. I don't know who's spirits had been lifted more, his or mine.
So that's just a little update on how we've been. Will try to write another note sooner next time.
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