Category Archives: Memories

November 6, 2012 · 7:05 pm

Dad a voter

As an immigrant to the U.S., Dad took his voting duties seriously. Mom never remembers him missing an election, except in 2008.

By then, Dad was mentally drifting quite a bit. I do remember having a few phone conversations with Dad about the upcoming election back then. Sometimes he would be coherent, other times, he could not finish his thought. As I’ve mentioned before, Dad was a Kennedy-loving Democrat. I don’t think he would have predicted a black man being elected U.S. president in his lifetime. Unfortunately, he was not well enough to participate in the historic election.

After that, Dad sunk into the black hole of dementia. During one of Dad’s many hospital stays, the staff was trying to assess Dad’s mental state. They asked him who the president was. Dad’s eyes were blank. His mouth didn’t move.

If there’s an election in the afterworld today, Dad is voting Kennedy all the way. 🙂

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November 5, 2012 · 6:12 pm

A phantom wheeze

As we march closer to the one year anniversary of my father’s death, Mom seems to be sensing Dad’s presence more at home. She told me the other night she fell asleep only to be awakened to the sound of someone wheezing. She instantly thought that it was my dad. He had suffered from both COPD and emphysema in the last several years of his life.

Then she reminded herself that Dad was no longer suffering anywhere on this planet.

She then thought it was me, but I’m in Atlanta at the moment. She then convinced herself that she was the wheezing (or snoring) culprit.

Our loved ones leave us on a mental and physical plane, but sometimes part of them lingers in the minds of those that mourn them.

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November 4, 2012 · 5:58 pm

A life controlled by machines

Dad was very sick this time last year and he would not get better. Soon, he would find himself hooked up to a multitude of machines that kept him alive, yet without awareness. This summer I also experienced the power of machines in the hospital when my mom had her surgery.

I read recently how many of the machines used in hospitals are running on software that’s ancient by today’s constantly-evolving standards. The worst part of it is that there are no simple ways to update the machine’s software, making them very vulnerable to malware attacks. Apparently, it is quite routine for a machine that is hooked up to a critically ill patient to just stop working. Luckily, the staff usually notice before the malfunctioning machine causes any real harm to the patient.

Certainly I saw my share of machines going haywire while my dad and then my mom ended up in the hospital. It’s frightening to think that you are placing your well-being on machines that could stop working at any moment. Sure, when the machines are working they are saving lives, or at least, preserving life for a bit longer.

I remember how my mom received her medications late while she was in the hospital because they were launching a new version of medication-dispensing that was computer-based and it had some glitches. Overall, the new system seemed to offer benefits such as cutting down on medication errors, which cause many deaths each year in hospitals.

But after learning about the potential dangers lurking in the outdated technology used at many hopsitals, I will never ignore or overlook a beeping machine in a hospital again.

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November 3, 2012 · 7:06 pm

Landmines for dementia patients

Until you spend a good deal of time with a dementia patient, you can easily overlook potential triggers that will create an explosion of confusion, fear and anger in certain people with dementia.

Take for instance, the simple act of getting on and riding in an elevator. I’ve heard that a way to keep dementia patients from crossing a door’s threshold is by putting a black strip of tape on the floor, or painting a black strip on the floor. Dementia patients see this as a black void and are afraid they will fall into it. I think this is what Dad experienced as we ventured towards the elevator. As we coaxed him to join us in the elevator, he jumped back as if he had been shocked. We finally were able to get him safely in the elevator, and had him hang on to the railing at the back for support. He was very unsteady and I could feel his anxiety level rise.

Fortunately, we only had to go a few floors up so the frightening incident for Dad didn’t last very long. He forgot it as soon as he exited the elevator. The trip back down was uneventful. But I remember that “scared out of your wits” gleam in Dad’s eye. It’s not something you ever want to see on a loved one’s face, but with dementia, it becomes an expression that one sees all too often.

What the experience has taught me is to be even more aware of my surroundings, and other’s special needs. What may seem like a routine, mundane task for me may be a journey of terror for someone else.

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November 2, 2012 · 6:11 pm

The grief process

The home health care agency asked Mom this week if she wanted to join a widow’s group. Mom balked at the idea: “A bunch of women sitting around and telling sad stories. I think that would make me feel worse.”

Yet Mom will tell a stranger at the drop of the hat about Dad’s passing, how he had dementia, how she took care of him at home for three years, etc. The group might have done her good, at least she would have a captive audience to talk to. But I know better than to push her.

But now as the calendar inches closer and closer to the first anniversary of Dad’s death, I’m fascinated by the various ways we grieve as humans. Honestly, considering what I’ve been dealing with this year, I don’t even feel I’ve had time to properly grieve Dad. For me, it’s a much more internal process, and my outward grieving is done through this blog.

If Dad had outlived Mom, I think he would have been a lost soul. I think I would have arranged to have him fly home to Ireland, to live with his remaining family there. I don’t think he would have been able to “fly solo” as Mom has done.

Grief is never easy, but we all have our own ways of processing our feelings about the loss of a loved one.

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November 1, 2012 · 6:17 pm

Dad’s take on the hospital breakfast menu

As we roll into November, I can’t help but think about this time last year, and how the beginning of the end was about to start for Dad. But November 2010 also included a hospital stay. Dad had a gallstone removed and was recovering pretty well in a hospital in Albuquerque. He was about mid-stage in his dementia journey at this point.

Getting Dad to eat was difficult. He could still swallow just fine at this point, but the hospital food was just not appealing to him. Mom would coax and wheedle and he would eat a few bites, but that was all. While in the hospital, he became more frail due to losing weight and being bedridden. This led to his transfer to a nursing home, and his inability to ever live at home again.

But one morning at the hospital, Dad was a bit perkier. A male attendant came in to take his breakfast order. The options for the morning were rattled off: scrambled eggs, cereal or French toast.

Dad didn’t miss a beat. He asked, “Does it speak French?”

The attendant and Mom had a good laugh over that one. Dad got the French toast, and if it spoke to him, only he knew about it.

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October 31, 2012 · 5:45 pm

Halloween still my favorite holiday

Halloween has always been my favorite holiday. I love scary movies and even enjoy the decorations, while other holidays mainly annoy me. But it is a bit unsettling after you’ve lost someone close to you and you see so many “fun and festive” references to the dead (and the undead.) I thought after losing Dad, and then almost losing Mom this summer, that I might sour on the whole holiday.

While I certainly was careful not to pick out a card with R.I.P. written on a gravestone for my mom (not an easy feat), I find I can still enjoy the festive spirit of the holiday. The dead are gone and far beyond our trivial celebrations here on earth, so there’s no reason to feel guilty about enjoying the staged horrors of Halloween, if that’s your cup of tea.

I think after dealing with so much death and misery over this past year, I was afraid that Halloween would be the last holiday I would want to celebrate. But I find that I can still enjoy the ghoulish fun that the holiday offers. Sometimes, brief escapes from reality are just what the doctor ordered.

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October 30, 2012 · 7:25 pm

Awkward Halloween drive to school

I remember one year while I was in junior high, I decided to dress up as a punk rocker for Halloween. It was a very common costume for that era. It didn’t require much. Some torn clothes, a sprinkling of tacky jewelry and a can of spray paint designed for use on the hair, and you were ready to go. I was always shy about dressing up as anything too weird for Halloween. This was a good compromise.

I’m sure to Dad, I might as well have been dressed up as a space alien. I’m sure he had no understanding of the punk rock movement, as he was more of a Frank Sinatra and Bing Crosby kind of guy. I remember him looking at me quite oddly as he got in the car to drive me to school. Mom thought it was fun and colorful. Dad just thought it was nuts!

I was relieved to be able to walk back home from school that Dad, so I could dodge Dad’s critical eye. After that year, I had pretty much grown out of dressing up for Halloween. I don’t remember ever putting on another Halloween costume.

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October 29, 2012 · 6:27 pm

Reminders of Dad as the season changes

Last week, I was at Mom’s and there was a cold snap. I did not pack a jacket from home, so I started going through Dad’s jackets to see if one was suitable. Dad’s security guard jacket still hangs in the closet, like he would put it on for a round of sentry duty at any moment. His trucking company jackets were also in there. They must be at least 30 years old. They are a bright orange, so I declined to wear one of those, as I didn’t want to look like a hazard cone.

Dad at a friend’s house, circa 1975, wearing the famous purple shirt.

It’s funny how reminders of Dad continue to flow into my mind with the change of seasons. There’s a great singer named Martha Wainwright who just released an album called Come Home to Mama that explores the emotions she went through after her mother, the wonderful Canadian folk singer Kate McGarrigle died. The whole album is wonderful, but “All Your Clothes,” a song inspired by her going through her mother’s closet after her death is particularly moving. Sure, memories are more important than tangible goods, but there is also often a deep connection between tangible goods and family memories.

What I didn’t find was Dad’s groovy purple shirt that he wore in so many of our family photos when I was a baby. That would be a keeper!

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October 28, 2012 · 6:11 pm

Dad’s wanderlust years

On the way to the airport this morning, I was talking to the cab driver, who was once a surgical nurse. She got burned out on her job and wanted to see more of the world. She said she encouraged her kids to also explore beyond the small town they were raised in.

Dad certainly had a wanderlust gene, as does Mom. Dad traveled from Northern Ireland to England to the U.S. While in America, he lived in several colorful cities: New York City, New Orleans and Los Angeles. His travels certainly influenced his life, and location played a big part in most of his best stories about his life.

I’ve had a lot of time this summer to listen to mom relate stories from her past, her travels, her stint in the Navy. I’m trying to keep better record of her stories than I did for Dad. With Dad, the mental decline seemed slow, until it wasn’t, and he was no longer able to recall the highlights of his life.

After all, if Dad had decided to never leave Belfast, he almost certainly would never have met Mom, and I would not be here either.

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