I Miss My Daddy

It's weird how parents can make their adult children feel like kids. Suddenly I feel like Doogie Houser typing on his computer at the end of an episode in 1992. <Insert thoughtful look here> But really it is a strange transition to make to be on equal ground with your parents. And stranger still when that parents needs your help just like you once needed theirs. My daddy has dementia, and I really miss him. :-( The doctor says it's most likely Alzheimer's (one day I will learn how to spell that without looking it up) but I guess it's hard to know for sure? Alzheimer's is just a form of dementia which covers pretty much any type of memory loss. Doesn't matter what they want to call it, he's not really my dad anymore. And it sucks!

I've been learning a lot when I hang out with my dad. Learning not to expect as much, learning there are some question not worth asking, learning I can listen to the radio when I drive him around because he can't hear it anyway. And learning it's remarkable how alike two people can be that are 74 years apart in age. Owen is 3 and daddy is 77. (This is what happens when you wait until later in life to have children. My dad was almost 46 when I was born.) At times it's almost uncanny.

Both of them are infinitely stubborn. Dad likes to buy ham when I take him grocery shopping, but it has to be Oscar Mayer ham or else it's not ham. Owen like to listen to the blue Imagination Movers cd when he goes to bed. Don't try to give him the red one unless you want trouble.

Both of them have little things that make them happy. Owen likes to drive home from daycare on the residential streets (the quiet road) instead of the main street (busy road) and he gets excited every day when I tell him we will go that way. Dad likes to drive home from the grocery store a certain way and he gets excited every time too. Literally they both say "Yay!" when I agree to go on the road they want.

I have to speak with them both the same way. Short simple phrases like, "That's not safe for you." or when they ask for something that I know is not going to happen, "Maybe we can do that later." because I know they will both forget about it. But Owen is getting better about remembering things now while daddy is getting worse.

I have to constantly worry about them wandering off when we are in a public place.

They both trust me completely. When we are driving, half the time neither of them knows where I'm taking them, and they are both fine with that because they are with me.

They are both equally hard to understand when they try to tell stories.

Here's a recent conversation with Owen while watching a baseball game...
Owen: Are we going to see that little boy again?
Me: What little boy?
Owen: The one that is friends with Noah.
Me: Noah and the Ark?
Owen: No! Not Noah. I said Noah!
Me: I'm sorry honey, I don't understand what you're asking.
Owen: (frustrated growl) The little boy!
Me: What little boy?
Owen: The one whose daddy fell down and hit his head and had to go to Heaven!
Me: OH! (Shannon Stone fell to his death at the ballpark in July and his 6 year old son threw out the first pitch at a playoff game recently then he went to sit with Nolan Ryan which Owen can't pronounce and calls him Noah) No, we will not be seeing that little boy today.

And a recent conversation with Daddy.....
Dad: (out of nowhere) And she just went and got pregnant.
Me: Who did?
Dad: That girl.
Me: Which girl?
Dad: The girl that use to own it.
Me: Um, she used to own what?
Dad: The one that doesn't work anymore.
Me: What doesn't work anymore?
Dad: (frustrated noise as he tries to remember a word) The thing that drives on wheels.
Me: A car?
Dad: Yes!
Me: So who is this girl?
Dad: She used to own the car across the street but then she got pregnant and couldn't drive it anymore so she wants to sell it.
Me: OH! (Still feel like I'm missing something. Why wouldn't you be able to drive just because you're pregnant? Nah, it's not worth asking.)

As I continue this adventure of watching the opposite ends of life unfolding before my eyes, on one hand I think it's a blessing that the timing worked out as it did. Living with Owen and knowing how to have a conversation with a 3 year old has really helped me to communicate better with my dad.