The Clearest I Can Explain It

If you haven't yet, please read my previous blog. Thank you.

Now, here's what this is like, to live with and love someone with FrontoTemporal Dementia.
The person my dad has become is nearly a 180-degree turn from the man who raised me. The condition he has turns people to hedonists, interested only in food, lazing about, about whatever feels good. Impulsive. Orally fixated. Appearing nervous. Imagine your best friend is your best friend because you share a love of Fleetwood Mac. Then one day they tell you to turn off "Rumors" and, in fact, they couldn't even tell you which band y'all were just listening to. Then they tell you how much they hated the sounds they heard. Was all of this a sham? Was it all a lie, the whole bond? Do you stop being friends?

My dad needs his family and his friends more than ever right now. And the emotional tools we have always seem small, inadequate, dull. And even if I knew exactly what worked, the frustration comes from a consistent need to use them, when I NEVER thought I would need to know, nor use these tools. Hanging out with my dad can go from discussions of religious freedom to reminding him to use the restroom before we get in the car. This is not a pity plea. This is not martyrdom. This, simply, Is.

But again, as you read in my previous blog (I hope) I have so much love and encouragement that I can't possibly fail. I can only grow and learn. And I hope that somewhere inside of my dad he knows that I love him as he is because of who he always was.

That's what he taught me: Love. The rest is pointless. Now that you're almost done reading this, why don't you ring someone you love and tell them so?

Thanks again. Massively f'ing love ya.

The Warm Silence of Perspective

In the past 10 days this blog has been read by a number of people. They have all expressed two sentiments: First, that my family is in their prayers. Second, that if I ever need to talk about what is going on with my dad, I could come to them.

Thank you. Each of you. I wish I could remember all of your names right now, but I'm honestly overwhelmed by it all. It's in the "dark" times that you find out what kind of forces are working with and against you, and I'm safe in saying I have a hugely positive force around me. This is more than energy, I can truly feel the love and sympathy sent out to me. I've tried my best to not hide this, because this is not embarrassing, and also because a LOT of us may be going through this as our parents age. I truly hope for you, dear reader, tha this never comes about in your family.

In the background, as I type this, "Celebrity Poker Showdown" is on, my favoriote episode starring Michael Ian Black and Norm MacDonald. Somebody just flopped a pair of queens, or as it's known, flopped a "Siegfreid & Roy." Hardy har. Here's where perspective taps me on the shoulder. These are people of notoriety playing a game to win money for a cause they believe in. They have enough in their bank to give whatever they'd win, times 10. But what's the fun if you're not IN IT? (hack jokes deleted)
I know that the world carries on, each of us walking through it with baggage clunking around us. And I carry this myself, obviously unwilling to do so, but it's got my tag on it at the claim carousel, it's coming with me. And it's not light enough to knock around as a balloon, nor heavy enough to stop my trekking on. It's enough to feel, though, acted upon by a gravity unlike anything I've ever been in step with.

And to know that there are SO MANY people sending so much love to my family, I gained more strength to carry it. Eventually I will adapt and it will become weightless for a myriad of reasons. In the meantime, all I have is to give back. Do this, for yourself...
Call somebody RIGHT NOW, someone you love, know, have lost touch with, and take a sec to catch up with them. Tell them something good about them. It's really not about you for that moment. Go outside yourself. Give. Someday you may need someone cheering you on from the sidelines of your personal Marathon. Being in front of a raucous & supportive crowd will carry you forward.

I am overwhelmed. I am blessed. I am stronger. Thank You. It's only two words, but I hope you know that it means you have written your name in the book of my life, and I will feel a debt of gratitude and appreciation I may never be able to repay.

Love ya. It's all gonna be okay. Promise.