Family

Having a loved one with Dementia is extremely difficult. Almost everyone knows someone who has it or has been affected by it, but yet there is still so little known about it. There is still so little to prevent, slow, treat, or cure it.

When I was about 11 years old, my grandfather (my dad's father) was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. He was in his late 80s and it was most likely onset by age. He eventually succumbed to the disease or natural causes. I remember how devastated my father was when his own father didn't know him. My dad has looked just like my granddad his whole life, but yet my granddad had no idea who my dad was when he would visit. After visiting with him, my dad would say if that ever happened to him to drive him out on a country road and kick him out to let the animals have him (he was always a huge animal and nature lover). Knowing how he felt about this disease makes watching him suffer with it that much harder. 

Some days we get glimpses of his smile, of his laugh, of him, but he's not here anymore. I don't know this man, and honestly I'm not sure if he knows me. My granddad used to sit in his recliner and watch TV, just stare at the screen and occasionally ask for something from my aunt or uncle. Sometimes he'd talk to the dog, Toby. He of course could talk. Alzheimer's affects people differently than the form of dementia my dad has. It was his stare though that I remember. Blank. 

When my parents traveled to Miami for our sons birth in October of 2013, they stopped at my aunt and uncles home. The same aunt and uncle who cared for my granddad. My dad, usually comical, witty, the life of the party, just sat (I'm told) on the couch and watched TV; never speaking a word. My uncle said after looking at him one morning, "oh boy," referencing the stare, and that is when we all knew. They all knew that state so much better than we ever did and ever hoped to. Now, sadly, I think we know that stare even better than they do. Silent, blank, stares.

How could a man so full of life, so full of love, so giving, so deserving, lose it all. I know if he knew this was happening to him, he'd have gone to be with the animals a long time ago. It is a dark thought, I know, but he never would have let us be put through this. So, in a sense, I am happy he has no idea. But knowing he has no idea, knowing we are letting him live this way when it's the last thing he'd ever want, makes it so much more devastating.