March 17, 2012 · 9:14 am

Happy St. Patrick’s Day

Well, if there was ever a holiday for my dad, today is the day. From what I remember as a kid, Dad was somewhat suspicious of the commercialization of St. Patrick’s Day, just as some people are of Christmas. Dad was VERY sensitive of anyone making fun of the Irish, so I think the leering leprechauns posted everywhere made Dad a bit peeved. If my mom really wanted to get under his skin, then she would tell an Irish joke. No matter how benign they were (and Mom only told G-rated jokes), Dad would never laugh. That being said, I’m guessing Dad never turned down a pint of green beer, especially if someone else was buying the round.

Image: Clipartpal.com

I do remember Dad telling the fable about how St. Patrick drove the snakes out of Ireland, but as a small child, I could relate better to the goofy leprechaun on the box of Lucky Charms cereal.

When I started going to school, I loved St. Patrick’s Day, because I was usually the only person in my class who had a parent that was actually born and raised in Ireland. It made me feel special, because Ireland wasn’t just another country to me, but a magical place that my dad talked about fondly and often.

So Dad, hope they are serving pints of Guinness today on the house, wherever you are.

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March 16, 2012 · 9:48 am

Sacred Heart Auto League member

I found this membership card in one of Dad’s nightstand drawers, along with many other religious icons and cards. Apparently, he was a member of the Sacred Heart Auto League. I was not familiar with the organization, so I Googled it. Seems like a decent enough of a group, encouraging people to drive safely as a way to honor their religious beliefs. I think Dad lived up to the “prayerful and careful driving” that the League preached, as he always drove slowly, much to the chagrin of the fast and loose California drivers. (Some of those drivers would make hand gestures as they sped around Dad that I’m pretty sure Jesus would not approve of.)

And who knows, maybe all of those religious icons and prayers kept my parents safe as Dad’s ability to drive deteriorated when his dementia became more severe. If there was ever a time to believe in guardian angels or some type of protective spirit, it’s when you are taking care of a loved one with dementia.

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March 15, 2012 · 3:09 pm

Dad’s journey a contrast in geography

My mom was talking to my dad’s sister recently, who is still spry at 90 and still living in Belfast. She mentioned that she was going to visit their grandmother’s farm, where she said Dad spent a lot of time as a child. It made me think about the drastic changes in geography in Dad’s life.

He started out in lush, green Northern Ireland, though perhaps the scenery was a bit grittier due to growing up in Belfast, which was rocked hard by the Nazis in WWII.  Then he moved to England when he was just 17, where he lived the city life as a young working man.

Mom and Dad in Ruidoso

Then came the big change. He immigrated to the U.S. by hopping on a freighter for a two-week journey by water to New York City. The sights and sounds of the urban jungle must have been overwhelming. Then he spent some time in storied New Orleans before settling down in Los Angeles. Hollywood no doubt allured my Dad out West. The suburb he ended up raising his family in, Downey, was nice enough but not particularly special.

My parents retired in Ruidoso, NM about a decade ago. Some family members at first thought that my parents had moved to Mexico.  Most people probably envision a desert-like environment when they think of New Mexico. A good deal of the state is arid, but Ruidoso is actually a mountain town, and known for its snow skiing.  Dad mainly liked the climate there, though it got a bit too cold for him in the winter and he didn’t like the blustery winds the area is known for.

Dad spent the last two months of his life in Albuquerque. The city possesses an arid beauty, but we could also see the majestic Sandia mountains from my dad’s hospital window. So Dad was able to experience many different climates and ways of living over his lifetime. I’m guessing if he had to choose, he would return to the pastoral serenity of his grandmother’s farm.

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March 14, 2012 · 11:38 am

Dad concerned about our safety

Dad was always a bit of the paranoid type, and the crime reports were one of his favorite sections of the newspaper. There were plenty of kooks in California, and there never seemed to be a shortage of high-profile crimes being reported.

Fortunately, the worst I can remember happening to our family was my mom’s purse getting snatched when I was about four. Dad was at work at the time, and we were just outside the grocery store. My mom was probably checking her receipt and had set down her purse next to her on the bench when the thief swooped in. I remember a rush of air, my mom exclaiming that the man took her purse, and my little legs pumping after the guy. That’s right, a preschooler who’s a crime fighter! Needless to say, I did not catch him.

Even as an adult, when I talked to Dad on the phone, and after we got the usual talk of the weather out of the way, Dad would want to know how I got to and from work and if there were other people around. He would always tell me to be careful. The fatherly advice usually just annoyed me.

When Dad went into the nursing home, most of the time he recognized Mom but as the months went by, he became more distant. Still, as she prepared to end the visit and endure the long bus ride back home, Dad would tell her, “You be careful now.”

He was still trying to protect her, even when he couldn’t do it himself anymore.

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March 13, 2012 · 10:37 am

Dad’s Hollywood ad agency photo

I’ve written before about how my dad was drawn to the allure of Hollywood and hoped to get into the movies. When my mom was writing Dad’s obituary, she wanted to find the perfect photo. She went through quite a few pictures and was growing tired when she stumbled on this awesome find.

The copyright is 1956 Hollywood Ad-Photos. I don’t know if Dad got anything out of this at the time, or if it just became a cherished relic of his youthful dreams. But I’m glad we were able to have this photo recorded with his obituary, as I’m sure Dad was quite proud of it.

I have no idea what the horseshoe is about. I hope to delve a little deeper and research this service.  Was it some mail-order scam or was it a legitimate agency? Secretly, I’d love to uncover an ad with Dad’s smiling mug on it. 

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March 12, 2012 · 12:22 pm

Dad’s favorite jacket

My mom and I found Dad’s old, beloved jacket as we were going through some of Dad’s old belongings. Dad was once a pretty sharp dresser, but as he got older, he gravitated towards a few favorite items that he would don on a regular basis. He had certain caps he loved wearing, and this was one of his favorite jackets.

When the dementia became more severe and he began wandering, we were happy he loved to wear this jacket because at least his name was stitched on it, even though it was becoming frayed. I took this photo to accompany a GPS tracking service offered by the Alzheimer’s Association. 

Dad never had the chance to use it as he had a medical emergency that landed him in the hospital. After that, he was housed in secure facilities so we didn’t have to worry about him wandering away anymore.

The jacket now resides in my closet.

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March 11, 2012 · 1:25 pm

Tracking down Dad as a kid

Dad had a habit of disappearing on us when we were shopping at the mall. Understandably bored, he would usually sit in the car and read or meditate. But in the sweltering summer heat, Dad would have to venture elsewhere. And that’s when I was sent out as a reluctant one-person search party while my mom set on a bench in the shade and checked over her receipts to make sure she got all of the discounts owed her.

I can remember circling the mall completely, and still seeing no sign of Dad. I would peek inside at the handful of places he might venture into, such as the newsstand. I would check all of the smoking areas, where sometimes I would get lucky and find him. Other times, I felt like I would never find him. I would be mildly concerned but mainly irritated. It’s not like I ever thought he was in real danger at the time.

Of course, when the dementia set in, tracking Dad down was not a benign, mildly frustrating event but a frightening ordeal. My mom could not even go and have important work done on her teeth without Dad slipping away at the dentist office, despite the promise that the staff would look after him. “He’s at Sonic, is that okay,” the receptionist would ask my mom while she was trapped in the dentist chair, mouth numb and useless due to the Novocain.

“No!”

The dentist would try to finish up the procedure as quickly as he could, while my mom envisioned my dad crossing the street at the wrong time and being hit by a car, or taking off again and getting even more lost.

So Dad was always a wanderer, but the disease made it much harder to find him.

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March 10, 2012 · 10:06 am

“The deer are here!”

When I visited my mom this week, each night at dinner we were greeted by deer passing by the back door. Coming from Atlanta, this is always a novelty for me, that such beautiful yet skittish creatures dare to venture so close to human territory. Of course, the deer know it as their territory, and we encroached upon it.

The deer look like phantoms in the snow as I steal a photo through the screen door. From December 2011 in Ruidoso, NM.

They move silently, with grace but always with a wariness to their gait. One deer seemed to be looking right at me as I set in awe at the dinner table.

Mom and I remember how Dad used to get excited by the deer as well. “The deer are here,” he would announce with glee. This is before the dementia and the hallucinations that came with it, when the deer became people out in the woods.

I could see Dad being reincarnated as a deer. He was quiet and suspicious yet had a gentle spirit.

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March 9, 2012 · 10:50 am

Telling Dad I’m plastic

Here’s a cute little memory that my mom verified for me recently. Dad was a good Irish Catholic and faithfully went to church every Sunday. My mom had been raised a ‘fire-and-brimstone’ Southern Baptist and was not a regular church-goer. Luckily, I was not forced in either direction of faith, and allowed to decide for myself.

One Sunday when I was very small, my Dad kept asking me if I wanted to go to church with him. I ignored him, fully engrossed with some blocks on the floor. As he headed out the door he asked me one more time.

That pushed me over the edge. I looked up, with a very serious expression on my face and said very clearly, as if this was common knowledge, “Daddy, I’m not Catholic, I’m plastic.”

He never asked me to go to church again, but he always chuckled when he told the story.

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March 8, 2012 · 9:35 am

Dad’s final belongings

While I was visiting Mom, we went through two boxes brought over from the last assisted living facility that Dad resided at. In fact, he spent very little time there, as he was mostly confined to the hospital by that point.

Mom was not looking forward to the process, even though we both suspected that many of the items in the boxes would not be Dad’s. We were right. It’s a bit disturbing to handle clothes that belonged to strangers. Who were these people, and what were their stories?

And who ended up with Dad’s clothes and belongings?

We also found two photographs of someone’s grandkids, most likely, their smiling portraits foreign to us.

I did score a couple of Dad’s old jackets, which are precious to me, so it was worth the unsettling experience.

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