Missing My Dad
I miss my Dad. I miss his funny laugh, his sometime abrupt movements, his sense of humor, his deep wisdom on things that would come out of nowhere and even would happen after the vascular dementia had taken a strong hold.
I am trying to remember what it was like before he was diagnosed. I think the disease had been slowly coming for a long time and it's hard to separate the fresh memories of Dad living and suffering with the horrid brain disease of Dementia and his healthy younger self. Pictures and stories help.
When I was younger Dad took a memory class. He came home after the session and would practice on all of us and demonstrate what he learned. I think he got Mom to take the class with him. I don't really remember :) He was in sales and remembering names and other details was very important to him.
Dad never really knew a stranger. When I worked for the March of Dimes he would gather and pay for a team (my brother would always play as well) and play in our golf tournaments. We had a 5th "celebrity" player for one tournament and Dad's team had Alejandro Pena, at the time a relief pitcher for the Atlanta Braves, and he called him Alex for the day :)
This flood of memories started with a Facebook memory that popped up this morning. It was a photo of Valentine's Day flowers that my Dad sent me seven years ago. That was our first year in Vermont. He (and mom :) always remembered. He has sent me flowers for as long as I can remember - until now. The past few years I know that Mom did it for him but the thought was the same and he knew in that *exact moment* what was happening.
What I will miss the most is that the next time I walk through my parents back door he won't be sitting in his black leather chair in the den. I would say "Hi Dad" and he would say " Hi Sal" and that would be enough.
I am trying to remember what it was like before he was diagnosed. I think the disease had been slowly coming for a long time and it's hard to separate the fresh memories of Dad living and suffering with the horrid brain disease of Dementia and his healthy younger self. Pictures and stories help.
When I was younger Dad took a memory class. He came home after the session and would practice on all of us and demonstrate what he learned. I think he got Mom to take the class with him. I don't really remember :) He was in sales and remembering names and other details was very important to him.
Dad never really knew a stranger. When I worked for the March of Dimes he would gather and pay for a team (my brother would always play as well) and play in our golf tournaments. We had a 5th "celebrity" player for one tournament and Dad's team had Alejandro Pena, at the time a relief pitcher for the Atlanta Braves, and he called him Alex for the day :)
This flood of memories started with a Facebook memory that popped up this morning. It was a photo of Valentine's Day flowers that my Dad sent me seven years ago. That was our first year in Vermont. He (and mom :) always remembered. He has sent me flowers for as long as I can remember - until now. The past few years I know that Mom did it for him but the thought was the same and he knew in that *exact moment* what was happening.
What I will miss the most is that the next time I walk through my parents back door he won't be sitting in his black leather chair in the den. I would say "Hi Dad" and he would say " Hi Sal" and that would be enough.
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