March 27, 2012 · 10:30 am

One of Dad’s proudest moments

While I would like to believe one of Dad’s proudest moments was when I came into the world and he became a father, the proud moment he talked about most frequently was meeting Robert Kennedy. As I’ve written about before, Dad was a Kennedy family fanatic, and loyally supported all of their political campaigns.

Courtesy of the National Archives and Records Administration

Dad was a bellhop in a New York City hotel at the time of the fateful encounter, having immigrated to the U.S. a few years prior. The staff had all been placed on high alert, and Dad positioned himself so he would be face-to-face with one of his idols. “How do you do, Mr. Kennedy,” Dad stuttered out nervously as he extended his hand. Kennedy, already a pro at working the public though still quite young, returned with a firm handshake and a smile. There may have been a bit of casual chit-chat between the two, but I don’t remember the specifics.

Anyways, Dad’s face would light up every time he told that story, and he would reenact the handshake for Mom and I. Of course, Dad was devastated when both John and Robert were assassinated. He followed the mystery behind those political murders very closely as well, reading countless books on the subject and watching many documentaries.

I always found it interesting that Dad treated the Kennedy family like they were royalty, while thumbing his nose at the British monarchy. Of course, being from Northern Ireland, the relations between the two were guarded at best. The success of the Kennedy family in America made Dad even prouder to be part of this country.

2 Comments

Filed under Memories

Tagged as , ,

March 26, 2012 · 10:37 am

Dad a charming son-in-law

I never had the pleasure of knowing Grandma Kyker, my mom’s mother. She sadly died exactly two months before I was born. She’s been described to me as an amazing, sweet, hard-working farm woman with a good sense of humor. She was a nurse, a caregiver and raised a large family of eight kids by working in the fields and creating homemade meals from scratch. My mother was very close to her, and she still talks about her with this awe and adoration that is touching.

Mom waited until later in life to get married. 34 wouldn’t seem that old now, but even though the times were changing in 1971, it still was outside of the norm. It probably was even more peculiar to the traditional farm family that Mom was raised in, where most of her siblings married shortly after high school. Mom had a career, then a short stint in the Navy before she got married.

I believe my dad only met his mother-in-law in person once, as depicted in this 1973 visit to the farm in Tennessee. When Dad talked about that visit, he described how beautiful the land was. Perhaps it reminded him a bit of his grandmother’s place in Northern Ireland. My mom said Dad and Grandma got along famously, bonding over the family’s extensive coin collection. Dad was very close to his own mother so it was no doubt easy for him to like Grandma Kyker. Mom says Grandma took her aside and said, “Be good to that man or he’ll leave you!”

Guess Mom heeded Grandma’s advice as Dad stuck around for 40 years.

Leave a comment

Filed under Memories

Tagged as , ,

March 25, 2012 · 10:08 am

Bonita the cat

I don’t think Dad ever met a cat he liked until he fell in love with Bonita.

To be fair, until that point, the only cats that our family had any contact with were the strays that would drape themselves across our fence and yowl at the top of their lungs in the middle of the night. My dad wrote a famous (in our family) letter to the editor of the Long Beach Press-Telegram about the stray cat scourge in our neighborhood, creating a firestorm of controversy and making my dad Public Enemy #1 in the eyes of local crazy cat ladies. (And I use that term in a most loving way, as I’m now one of their most fervent members.)

Bonita the cat with one of her kittens.

When my dad became a security guard, there were lots of lonely nights patrolling the trucking company he worked at. One of his fellow co-workers introduced him to Bonita. She was a scruffy, suspicious feline, a street-smart cat that was weary of the streets. She may also have been weary because she was pregnant.

Dad fell for Bonita pretty hard. He started bringing her cans of food nightly. He would provide us with regular updates. He would mimic how he called her name and how she would come running up to him. (I’m guessing the sound of the can opening was the real reason, but if Dad thought he was the reason, so be it.) Bonita had her kittens and then there was a family of felines to feed. Perhaps some of the kittens were trapped and adopted, I’m not sure. But Bonita remained. She had probably never known the inside of a loving home and probably never did in her entire life.

But there was Dad and the other workers, who at least provided her with the basic necessities. Months after my dad stopped working there he would return, to feed a stray cat named Bonita that was anything but pretty but to my dad, was a friend in need.

Leave a comment

Filed under Memories

Tagged as , ,

March 24, 2012 · 10:16 am

Saturday night supper

I’ve written previously about our favorite takeout meal, but most of the time Mom cooked for us on the weekends. When I was in high school, I had a part-time job at Alin’s Party Supply and Dad was working as a security guard. We both worked all day Saturday, so when we came home, we were starving.

One of our favorite Saturday suppers was when Mom made chili. Mom was no gourmet chef, but having been born and raised on a farm, she knew her way around a kitchen and how to cook up family-pleasing meals. The chili was one of those all-day affairs, where you let it simmer for hours on end. Dad and I would each have a heaping bowl, topped with shredded cheese and green onions, and would usually end up going back for seconds.

The battle was over the cornbread twists.

These were not homemade, just a product out of one of those twist-pop cans from Pillsbury. My mom certainly was capable of making real cornbread, and did on other occasions. (No sugar or egg, just like the way her mother made it.) But once these cornbread twists were on the market, they were such a hit with Dad and I that Mom didn’t have to worry about making cornbread from scratch anymore.

You could make them as the traditional twists or you could take two of them, wrap them together, and turn them into muffins. Mom says I told her, “Yeah, those are good, but Dad eats too many that way. Just make the twists.”

I guess Mom was having a nostalgic moment recently and wondered if Pillsbury still made the cornbread twists. I checked for her and they don’t, but from reading the numerous online comments, we weren’t the only family that enjoyed them. Hopefully wherever Dad is now, he can eat his fill of those cornbread twists along with a heaping bowl of chili.

1 Comment

Filed under Memories

Tagged as , , ,

March 23, 2012 · 10:41 am

A sunny Santa Monica visit

Dad’s wallets have been the source of some great finds, and this photo is one of those treasures. I have no recollection of the photo, but Mom thinks it was taken during a weekend visit to Santa Monica. It was one of those day outing trips that families take to keep the kids from getting bored. There was probably some cotton candy and a carousel ride involved. I do remember the shirt Dad is wearing, it was green and white, and it was one of his favorites. It’s funny how our mind throws away these happy memories that we would like to recall, while retaining darker memories that we would be relieved to let go of.

At any rate, this photo is just bursting with happiness. As I’ve mentioned before, Dad rarely smiled in photos because he was ashamed of his teeth, but he is flashing a big grin in this photo. I look angelic (for the moment, I’m sure that was subject to change at that age) and every bit playing the part of Daddy’s little girl.

The fact that Dad kept this photo tucked away in his wallet all of these years makes me wonder if he ever pulled it out and reflected back on these happy family times, or if it was just a forgotten moment that he carried around with him unknowingly.

Leave a comment

Filed under Memories

Tagged as , ,

March 22, 2012 · 11:24 am

What’s under the sofa cushion?

I was talking to my mom yesterday and she was telling me about how she flipped over the sofa cushions. (Yes, bless her heart, she describes her life to me in this kind of micro-detail.) When she lifted up the cushions, she found a blue pen that belonged to Dad and an old photograph. My ears perked up at the mention of a photograph.

My mom said it was a wallet-sized black-and-white photograph taken at a wedding. My dad is on the end, perhaps the best man. My mom didn’t recognize the other people in the photograph, the apparent bride and groom, and a woman on the opposite end of my dad, probably a bridesmaid. My mom broke out the magnifying glass to see if she could read the printing on the back of the photograph. It was some photography studio in Belfast, so at least the location is known, but no year could be found.

Of course, the big question is, what in the world was this photograph doing under the sofa cushion in the living room of my parents’ condo? It’s common for those with Alzheimer’s to drift to their past, as those memories seem to be left intact longer than trying to deal with the confusing present. So maybe Dad stumbled across this photograph in a drawer and decided to hang on to it. Maybe he slipped it into one of his many wallets when he went through his money hoarding phase and it fell out. We’ll never know for sure, but it does make me want to turn the rest of the house upside down to see what treasures are hidden.

One of the last things my father said in my presence was about three weeks before he died. He had been moved from CCU to the regular medical floor at Presbyterian Hospital in Albuquerque. After watching him narrowly escape death, I had to head home to Atlanta. He seemed a bit brighter and more coherent.

He said, “I’m going to go see Maureen and Kathleen.” (Those are his sisters, both still living. They live in Northern Ireland and Australia, respectively.)

I said okay and he replied, “Sure, why not?”

Why not indeed? If memories of happier family times brought him some sense of comfort, if it offered him a brief respite from the dementia, then so be it. Even if he could only see his sisters and relive these memories captured in old photographs in his rapidly disintegrating mind, so be it.

Leave a comment

Filed under Memories

Tagged as , , ,

March 21, 2012 · 11:20 am

Polly the parrot

I thought Mom was nuts when she bought a toy parrot that repeats everything you say. This was prior to Dad’s dementia. In fact, when she would insist upon “Polly” sending me a message on our weekly phone conversations, I was more concerned about mom’s sanity at that point. But apparently I owe Mom (and Polly) a big apology.

Mom with "Polly" the talking parrot toy.

I stumbled upon this blog post about Dotty and Harvey thanks to Lark Kirkwood’s Elder Advocates blog. What a delightful and insightful story and video. Who knew this cheap parrot toy could connect with Alzheimer’s patients better than some caregivers can?

I was blown away when I read about Dotty and Harvey because once my dad was battling dementia, Mom would still play Polly for Dad when he was depressed or agitated. She said it brightened his mood. I have a feeling it made her feel better as well.

You have to be creative when you are a caregiver for someone with Alzheimer’s. Mom was being quite savvy in her own kooky way.

2 Comments

Filed under Memories

Tagged as ,

March 20, 2012 · 10:49 am

Dad takes on Humphrey Bogart

If I had a dollar for every time I found my dad watching “Casablanca” when I was a kid, I probably wouldn’t have to go to work today. As a child, the old black-and-white movies bored me to death, but now I have quite a large classic movie selection. I definitely prefer the classics to most of the movies being made today.

I guess Dad felt the same way. I remember how Mom and I would want to go to the mall or on some outing on a Sunday afternoon, and Dad would tell us to wait until the end of the movie. Even my mom would be miffed. “You’ve seen that movie over and over, you know how it ends,” she would scold him out of frustration. It didn’t matter because it was “Casablanca” and Humphrey Bogart was lighting up the screen. Dad would sit in front of the TV, transfixed, and not budge until the credits started rolling.

That’s why I was thrilled to find this photo of Dad, who looks like he’s doing his best Bogart impersonation. It’s obviously a photo booth photo, but there’s no date and I have no idea where it was taken. I know Dad wanted to get into acting, and judging by this photo, he could have easily been an extra in a film noir movie of the era. He’s definitely going for the hard-boiled detective look in this photo.

It seems that people of my parents’ generation found simple ways to escape out of the doldrums of daily life. My dad was not the most fascinating person in the world, but I’ve stumbled upon great photos like these that show a completely different side of him. When I think back on the photos I have of myself, there’s nothing nearly as interesting. I think now we are more concerned about being seen at XYZ tourist destination, thinking that by being present in a certain location, it will transform us, but back in the day, when perhaps travel wasn’t as easy for everyone, people like my Dad transformed themselves instead of their environment.

Leave a comment

Filed under Memories

Tagged as , , ,

March 19, 2012 · 10:39 am

Dad helping out with baby duties

From what Mom has told me, Dad was always willing to help out with the multitude of chores that comes with having a baby. Still, Mom did the bulk of the work, and I’m guessing Dad didn’t have to change my diaper very often. He apparently liked to give me my bottle in the morning, and of course, he loved to sing me to sleep. My mom says I adjusted to their schedule pretty well, so perhaps it paid off that Dad was never one of those 9-5 office types. My parents were already used to being awake until the wee hours of the morning.

Dad desperately trying to feed me.

Poor Dad, trying to feed me in this photo. Clearly, I have no desire to cooperate. I guess he should have stuck to singing lullabies and making Donald Duck imitations, and left the clean-and-feed operations to Mom. I’m sure he was hoping Mom would ask him to go on a diaper run or some other errand to get him out of this failed mission.

Leave a comment

Filed under Memories

Tagged as ,

March 18, 2012 · 10:21 am

Dad entering the Irish Sweepstakes

As I was going through some of my father’s items, I found this Irish Sweepstakes ticket shoved deep into a forgotten pocket of his wallet. Lord knows how long it had been there. The date on the ticket is 1978. I would have been four at the time. I remember some hoopla over these tickets in our household, and no doubt my mom was concerned about the fact that it was illegal in the U.S., though ironically, the Irish Sweepstakes reportedly earned more revenue from America than any other country. I’m guessing Dad just had his family members slip a ticket inside a letter.

I knew as a kid that it was some kind of lottery, but I didn’t realize that part of the proceeds benefited hospitals in Ireland, much like the lottery here in Georgia benefits higher education. I guess I always thought the Irish Sweepstakes was more like a traditional raffle, but throw in the race horse element and the whole thing becomes complicated. In fact, Dad also enjoyed betting on the horses, and my mom did too. Going to the racetracks in California a couple of times a year were like mini-vacations for us. Dad never had much luck, but he would usually break even.

Of course, it was my mom that ended up having all of the luck, winning $100,000 on a scratch-off ticket. Sadly, her luck came too late for Dad and her to be able to enjoy it. Dad was already well into his dementia, and instead of using the winnings to take a vacation, the extra funds helped pay for Dad’s expensive care over the next year. Of course, we were lucky as a family not to have to wipe out our bank accounts like many families in similar situations have to do, but it is still bittersweet.

4 Comments

Filed under Memories

Tagged as , , ,