Writing hasn’t been a priority lately. You may have noticed. Well, you probably didn’t notice and that’s okay/ If you’ve ever read my blog it was ,most likely because someone you love has Alzheimer’s disease or dementia and will understand. I haven’t written because there really wasn’t much to say. Not much has changed.
While I wasn’t writing, I have continued to grieve over the loss of my Dad. No, he hasn’t died but he is every bit as gone as if that were true. Dad has lost a lot of ground. His communication is random and mostly a garbled mix of sounds that once were parts of words. He still smiles if you act like you told him something funny and on a really good day, you can tell him who you are and he will say something like “that[‘s nice”.
I have become obsessed with Daddy’s hands. I think of his hands often and remember the gentleness of his touch. Sometimes late at night I flash back to better days when his strong grip on my shoulder was as close to a hug as he could muster at the time. Mostly I remember him walking up behind my mother and scratching her back tenderly. It was how he said “I love you” to her without words.
My Dad wore two rings; one on each hand. He never took them off. One, his wedding band and the other a ruby Masonic ring that was passed down through the family when he became a Mason. Dad lost the ruby ring about a year ago and he has lost so much weight that we took his wedding band home before it too was lost. Even without the rings, I am still obsessed with Daddy’s hands. The hands are all that physically resemble this man who has held my heart in those hands for almost 60 years and oh how I miss him.
It’s funny how something as simple as the sight of those hands can trigger a lifetime of memories. And I find myself wondering if Alzheimer’s will one day steal those too.