Saturday, June 14, 2014

My Dad Has Dementia; Don't Be Sorry

Carter and Dad on the swing
In January 2014 I moved myself, my two girls and our dog 1,670 miles across the country from the city life of Southern California to rural Missouri. We moved in with my parents. My husband is still living and working in California, but will be joining us once our house is built. We left California for several reasons, including (but not limited to) changing our lifestyle, becoming self sufficient, and lessening the Hollywood influence on our teen daughters. We moved to Missouri for a very specific reason: to be nearer my parents. 

My dad has dementia. 
Upon hearing that, most people respond by saying, "I'm sorry." I understand that is a natural compassionate response, but I'm not sorry. At least not sorry for myself. Am I saddened my dad often feels confused? Of course! Am I sorry my mom has to watch her husband change day by day? Yes, definitely. Am I sorry for me? Not at all. 

I love splashing through puddles with my dad, doing farm chores with him, and watching him push my kids on the tire swing (or vice-versa). We make pancakes together and watch reruns of Matlock. I love that each day he delights anew in details I often overlook. Today we looked out the kitchen window and he told me to watch the backside of the leaves as the breeze moved the branches. 


Me and Dad in the garden

I'm thankful for the opportunity to grow. I'm grateful that I am being stretched in ways I never imagined. I'm honored to be here at this stage in our lives. I'm thankful that I get to help my mom. I'm so very glad to be able to spend this time with my parents, at a point in my adult life when I can actually recognize and appreciate them as individuals. 


I'm thankful my kids are learning that life isn't always about "us four and no more". They are learning to sacrifice, and put the needs and desires of others above their own, and to respect and honor their elders. 

I can't speak for all persons who have family members with dementia, only for myself, but if you want to say something kind and find yourself at a loss for words, here are a few things I love to hear:
"How are you?"
"Tell me about your dad."
"I'm glad you are there for him and your mom."

There are hard days. And I know there will be more as we walk this path together. But I am so glad to be a part of this journey.