I confess that I cried my way through the movie, Still
Alice, which may have not gotten rave reviews but is a must see for everyone.
It’s only a matter of time before someone in your life will face memory loss
issues. The movie portrays what it would
be like to live as a renowned college professor at a prestigious university and
one day discover that you are lost on your run on campus. You rush into your
lecture and have to ask the students where are we on the syllabus? The worst
fate is when this intellectual genius type of mom is humbled to visit a
neurologist to discover that she has a rare form of Alzheimer’s disease that
can be genetically transmitted to her kids and their kids.
Initially Alice is great at using her iPhone to cover up for
her little mishaps. The difficulty is when her doctor pushes her to take a DNA
test to if she has the rare form of the disease. During family special dinners
it becomes obvious to her overachieving adult kids that something isn’t exactly
ok with their together mom. It’s in the middle of the night when she can’t
sleep that she wakes her PhD husband to tell him the news. He’s an initial
naysayer only to sit in with the Neurologist to discover that his wife will
lose her memory and identity too soon.
If you are still reading this post I have to be transparent
and say that I watched my dad go from being a former Vietnam B-52 flyer that
flew all over the world and never got lost to an aging senior that one day took
2 hours to come home with Domino’s Pizza. I admit that while my mom was
struggling with her cancer that she purposely hid from me and my brother’s my
dad’s absent mindedness. I cried thinking how I should have put it all together
and helped my mom get help for my dad in the midst of her chemo. This never
happened and I watched my dad retreat into his cave or home where he became
paranoid about spies from Southeast Asia coming to kill him. He truly believed
that the President was also out to get him.
I have too many memories of trying to correct my dad only to
discover that he lived in a parallel universe. I learned to listen, laugh and
cry as my dad told me stories of how he traveled the world with his lady. It
took a lot of courage to take my dad out of his cave in San Diego and have him
relocate to be with my family and me. I dreaded the day I would have to tell
him to pack and leave his little house where he had cared for his dying bride
over a decade. Yet, the day came and he actually responded, packed a few
suitcases and quietly left with me. Little did I know the journey we would walk
together over the next three years?
It’s almost impossible to have someone like Alice or my dad
live in a normal home context. They need to be watched and helped 24-7. It’s
admirable to attempt to be there for them but the reality is that you will
become exhausted, frustrated and mad. The more you try to fix your parent,
grandparent or friend the worse it will get. So after three months of living
with us and having dad accuse me of being his boss, father and trying to kill
him, we placed him in an assisted living center. It took a few weeks for him to
adjust or more so for me to let go.
I can’t say that it was easy watching him go from my mentor,
educator and friend to someone that needed my help constantly. What amazingly
touched me over the three years was how his Dementia helped him become more
thankful and loving towards my wife and me. He still struggled with my middle
brother who he always clashed during his adolescence until he had his first
stroke. Post stroke my dad mellowed out even more and I realized the world he
now lived in was very different from mine. He became very simple and the little
he spoke was always a thank you and I love you.
My dad was always a veracious reader but now he was no
longer able to write even his name. He could read a little with help and a real
miracle was that he could still recite the 23rd Psalm and repeat our
childhood grace at dinner. I understand Alice’s husband who couldn’t face
watching his wife and love over the years not be able to find a bathroom in
time. I remember my dad’s struggle one weekend when the custodian decided to
write a note on his bathroom door that the toilet was broken without telling any
of the other staff. My dad ended up getting confused, frustrated and made
messes all over his room. I was clearly furious with this custodian and more so
with the CEO not being told what was happening.
I knew a day would come where I would either get a call or
know myself that my dad’s last days had arrived. I was so fortunate, like
Alice’s younger actress daughter, to have my dad wake up from his last sleep to
grip my hand and lovingly look me in the eyes. He gave me a big thanks for all
of my care and then a bigger than life, I love you. After that he slept himself
into heaven as the family gathered around him.
Yes, my life has been tormented and touched by this awful
disease that takes away a person’s dignity and identity. I have a picture of my
dad in his wheel chair with one of his crazy hats on and a smile that will keep
me going the rest of my life. I miss you DAD and thank you for being Still ED!
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