Memory of Daddy by Susan
I called my Father, Daddy. He had so many good qualities that made me love him. He also had many other qualities that made me very angry with him when I was a young woman. He passed away in 1990 after suffering for years with Alzheimer's Disease.
I have a memory of Daddy that is rarely far from my mind. It happened not long before he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. This man felt a lot of emotional pain as a result of being abandoned by his mother as a child and placed in an orphanage. He ran away from the orphanage at about age 10 and went to his grandmother's home where she raised him.
This man also felt a lot of pain throughout his marriage to my mother. This memory which sticks in my mind is of him standing in the kitchen, leaning his arms on the ledge by the built in booth. He and I were the only ones in the kitchen at the time. My mom had gone to another part of the house. I saw a lot of sadness in his eyes as he asked me this question. "Can I come and stay at your house for a while?"
I understood exactly why he wanted to come. He didn't say and he didn't have to. I don't remember what I said, I don't remember anything that came after that question. However, I have always felt guilty that I didn't bring him home with me at least for a short visit. I knew my mother and my husband wouldn't understand.
My mom took care of Daddy during the first stages of Alzheimer's. She did her best but she was never the caretaker type. She was never a compassionate person or a patient one. I fear he was treated very badly and I believe it is one of the reasons why my sisters and I encouraged her to put him in a nursing home when his illness became worse.
As it turned out, approximately seven years after my dad's death, my mom was also diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease. She passed away in 1999. Recently, I found out that my sister, who is three years older than I, has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's. As I accept the strong possibility of my getting this disease, my memory of my Dad asking me that question has been creeping into my thoughts much more frequently.
Like my mother, my husband is not a caretaker type of person, or a compassionate and patient person. The kind of care I might receive is one of my greatest fears and concerns if or when I get this terrible disease. I can imagine myself asking my child if I can go home with them for a while. I hope I don't do that but I can see why I might.
My general doctor is sending me to the area "Memory Clinic". I received the paperwork the other day. I haven't yet been able to make myself fill it out. Do I want to know? Would you want to know?
I have a memory of Daddy that is rarely far from my mind. It happened not long before he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. This man felt a lot of emotional pain as a result of being abandoned by his mother as a child and placed in an orphanage. He ran away from the orphanage at about age 10 and went to his grandmother's home where she raised him.
This man also felt a lot of pain throughout his marriage to my mother. This memory which sticks in my mind is of him standing in the kitchen, leaning his arms on the ledge by the built in booth. He and I were the only ones in the kitchen at the time. My mom had gone to another part of the house. I saw a lot of sadness in his eyes as he asked me this question. "Can I come and stay at your house for a while?"
I understood exactly why he wanted to come. He didn't say and he didn't have to. I don't remember what I said, I don't remember anything that came after that question. However, I have always felt guilty that I didn't bring him home with me at least for a short visit. I knew my mother and my husband wouldn't understand.
My mom took care of Daddy during the first stages of Alzheimer's. She did her best but she was never the caretaker type. She was never a compassionate person or a patient one. I fear he was treated very badly and I believe it is one of the reasons why my sisters and I encouraged her to put him in a nursing home when his illness became worse.
As it turned out, approximately seven years after my dad's death, my mom was also diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease. She passed away in 1999. Recently, I found out that my sister, who is three years older than I, has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's. As I accept the strong possibility of my getting this disease, my memory of my Dad asking me that question has been creeping into my thoughts much more frequently.
Like my mother, my husband is not a caretaker type of person, or a compassionate and patient person. The kind of care I might receive is one of my greatest fears and concerns if or when I get this terrible disease. I can imagine myself asking my child if I can go home with them for a while. I hope I don't do that but I can see why I might.
My general doctor is sending me to the area "Memory Clinic". I received the paperwork the other day. I haven't yet been able to make myself fill it out. Do I want to know? Would you want to know?
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