My Father

This is my Dad. He is now 75 young years. As a kid, I remember my father being a stern man with rules we had to follow.  I was only made to "get in the bathroom" twice but I remember that well. He and my mother owned their own business growing up and I have such fond memories of that place. When I was 16, my parents went bankrupt because of the big name pharmacies running the mom and pop ones out of business. Most of my peers had a car of there own but it was not till I was 17 that I got one. It was a blue 4 door Toyota Corona. I do not remember the year it was but it was mine even though it would not go over 45 MPG and I had to beat the starter with a large stick in order to get it started.  It wasn't until my 20's that I finally asked my father for a car and I was told promptly "Sorry but I cannot do that right now." My parents were extremely generous people. They did for me and my brothers probably way too much. I fully admit that at one point I took advantage of that because I knew my parents would bail me out. For some reason though, my conscience eventually got to me, thank God, and I paid my parents back, not only with money but with gratitude. Now that I am married with a family of my own, my dad is in need of my help now. My mother died in 2007 and my dad did not take her death very well. About a year after her death, Roy and I started seeing dad do and say some things that were out of his character. As it progressed, I knew what was going on with him. My dad had developed dementia. I have had to watch a very sharp man just deteriorate before my eyes and it is very heartbreaking. He has become a very fragile soul. I cannot imagine the hell this man is going through in his own mind. My pain does not matter at all compared to his pain. I can see it in his face. This disease is brutal to an individual. It takes their mind and scrambles it like an egg. It makes them believe things that are not true and creates things that never happen. For example, to add to his pain of knowing his wife is dead, this disease has made him think one of his son's is dead. The look of joy when I tell him, "Dad Jeff just moved to Atlanta, he is not dead." is priceless. I keep having to remind myself that there is some shred of this man left but sometimes I do not see my Dad anymore, I see that DAMNED disease. My husband and I are doing our best to pay it forward to him. I know he deserves that. He gave me life and sheltered me and I owe it back to him to see that he gets the best he can have in his final years on this earth. I love you Dad with all my heart. XOXO