Change

I’m starting to understand that the only thing constant about Alzheimer’s is change.

I’ll be brief today.

Several nights ago, Mom woke up at 3 A.M. to find Dad standing by her bed fully dressed and wearing sunglasses.  He was ready to go somewhere but didn’t know where.  The sunglasses are still a mystery.  Dad hasn’t worn sunglasses for over fifteen years when he found it easier to have photo-gray lenses in his glasses than to keep up with a pair of sunglasses.  With a bit of gentle coaxing, Mom got him back in the bed and it hasn’t happened again – yet.

Today our family celebrated Easter together.  When I arrived at Mom and Dad’s house, my first thought was – damn!   Dad looked like a street person.  His clothes were at least three sizes too big, his hair uncombed, and he was sporting a 4-5 day growth of whiskers.  I noticed an odor today for the first time too.  Clearly it’s time to have someone come in to help with personal hygiene.  Dad would die before he would let one of his children see him in the shower and we are determined to help him maintain as much dignity as possible.

We enjoyed a meal together and before we all left, Dad had been shaved and had his fingernails groomed.  A hair cut is in his future and will be done this week.  He may not care but we do.

I did not feel the overwhelming emotions that I normally feel today.  That is strange and I wonder if I am just adjusting or, am I emotionally detaching from the stranger living in my Dad’s body.

As usual, I have more questions than answers.

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