Every Monday night, I spend the evening with my father. I pick him up at 5:30 and drop him off about 8:30. Our routine is usually to go to my house, I make dinner while he watches the news, and then we watch some TV together.
Dad's Alzhemier's has taken his short-term memory and conversations are usually about what is in front of him, happening in the moment. Our drives to and from Pfafftown are filled with the same comments about the businesses, trees, lawns, and traffic on the roads. If we go to a restaurant, he comments about empty the place is during the dinner hour. (Of course, Mondays are traditionally the nights that restaurants are slow.)
But last night, for the first time in a long time, he talked about what a good time that he had. He told me that he even thought he did not remember where we had dinner or what he ate, he enjoyed himself because it was time that we spent together and he was thankful.
I was thankful, too.
Suemo, got here from LIF. My grandfather had Alzhemier's, reading this post brought back memories and also brought some tears to my eyes. When I think of my grandfather I don't think so much about the times he didn't know who I was, I think more often about the times he took me to Dairy Queen and let me get whatever I wanted.
ReplyDeleteApril
I hope you have a good Monday this week.