Savannah

Four years ago this week we were in Savannah for a 'babymoon' with my family. Also to get our dogs back, which my parents had been watching all Summer for us while we prepared for our baby's arrival. My dad had been more than excited to watch his granddogs, he'd always been an animal lover and he absolutely adored Sabrina. This time was different though, it was almost like therapy for him. I had mixed emotions about taking the dogs back but we were seeing my parents in just a few weeks again anyway because of Michael's birth.

We met my parents at a hotel in Savannah, per usual my dad was quiet. I told him if he wanted he could keep the dogs in their room for the weekend, and this seemed to perk him up. It was during this trip I noticed the almost OCD like habits my father had formed. Noting first that while it was great the dogs were getting walked, he was walking them 8 or more times a day. He'd come inside, sit down and then get right back up to walk them. I'd tell him he didn't have to do that and he wouldn't look at me but he would laugh. If I tried to take the leash he'd pull it away; it was like he HAD to do it.

He also had a collection of receipts that he refused to throw away. From what we gathered,  he was hoarding the receipts because he was afraid that his identity could be stolen it if he didn't shred them. He thought that receipts contain credit card information and things like that which was just completely unreasonable but again if you tried to take a receipt away or throw it in the trash, he would either dumpster dive or get very forceful about not letting the receipt go. He would not get angry, but he would just laugh again, it was something that I felt like he couldn't control. It was as though he had to do it, kind of like OCD.

While the dog walking and the receipts were concerning, what was most concerning was one of our nighttime games. My family always enjoyed playing card games or board games but on this particular trip I had brought with me a game that you had to quickly answer questions, off the top of my head I can't remember the name of the game, but it was a game pretty much anyone could play. All you had to do was answer a question and answer it as quickly as possible before a timer ran out.  I chose my dad to be on my team knowing that I was the most patient with his struggle; however, I did not know how badly he would struggle with this game. I would literally tell him an answer and he would not be able to repeat it. On our fourth turn, I answered a question for him and said it's 'OK Dad, I know you know this.' The answer was the Lakers so I said, 'Just say the Lakers, Dad' and he laughed and laughed and laughed, but he could not say the Lakers. Eventually, he started crying; not bawling, but he had tears. My heart shattered into a million pieces and I gave a look to my mom and to Mike and I think it was then that silently we all knew.

 While it's devastating and heartbreaking to remember this trip, I also remember it very fondly. This is the last trip that I had with my dad that was actually really enjoyable. We took in all the sights in Savannah, we rode a horse drawn carriage, went on a historic tour, went to Paula Dean's restaurant, and so many other places. And while my dad was quiet, he was there and he was happy; he was happy to be with me, he was happy to be with Mike, he was happy, of course, to be with my mom, and most of all he was happy to be with Michael. Even though Michael was just a bump, my father was so proud and loved showing off that he was going to be a granddad. We made it to a park after our horse drawn carriage ride and for whatever reason my mom couldn't figure out how to work my camera and so my dad took over with picture taking. This made me nervous for obvious reasons but he ended up taking what ended up being Mike and I's maternity pictures. These pictures I will cherish for the rest of my life not just because of what's in them but because of who took them. They are more precious than anyone could imagine and like they say, truly speak 1000 words.

 When we got home from that trip, I confided in Mike. While I never said aloud that dementia was in our future, we both knew. We prayed that it was a stroke, we prayed that it was nothing,  but we knew. After so much research I have found that these OCD like tendencies, sadly, are another symptom.  Not a technical symptom like you would think but many families and doctors have reported loved ones and patients that develop these tendencies in order to try to control what little they have left. For me, knowing that makes it all that more devastating.