A Daughter's Observations...What A Difference Three Years Makes

Dad moved to Utah a couple days before his 81st birthday in April of 2009 and spent almost a year at Courtyard at Jamestown before moving in with us in March of 2010. Jamestown was a very nice facility and took great care of dad, but he was just not quite ready to be there, so after remodeling a bedroom, we had him move in with us.

Then: We live across the street from an elementary school and park. When dad first moved in with us, he could walk around the park and back home on his own. We would just have to remind him to keep an eye on the red truck and come back to it when he was done walking...it was kinda cute to watch him walk a few yards, turn to see where the truck was, walk a bit more and then check to make sure he could still see the truck.

Now: Slowly, dad started forgetting to watch for the truck and would just kind of wander, so now someone needs to walk with him when he goes for his walks.

Then: Dad is a weed puller. I'm not sure when it started, but somewhere along the way dad became almost obsessed with pulling weeds. When walking, if there is a weed growing in the cracks or at the edge of the side walk, dad has to stop and pull it. Well, our yard is large and full of weeds, so dad was in luck. Plus, in the fall he had tons of walnuts that had fallen out of our walnut trees that he could fill his cart with...we got him a little gardening cart that he could pull along and fill as he was working in the yard. We could even go in the house and leave just the screen door closed to check on him occasionally.

Now: If dad is out in the yard, someone needs to be out there with him. There have been a couple of times that he got so busy pulling weeds, that he worked his way into our neighbor's yard and couldn't figure out where he was when things didn't look familiar. Not to mention the time he somehow got stuck between the fence and one of the old trees growing on the hill that goes down to the back yard...I still can't figured out how he got there.

Then: When dad first moved to Utah and asked "When am I going home?" he meant to California.

Now: When dad asks, "When am I going home?" he is talking about Idaho. In fact, last night when he asked about "Home" I decided to do a little experiment and asked, "Do you mean to California or Idaho?" He replied, "Idaho of coures, I've only ever been to California for visits, besides being stationed there a few times aboard ship."

Then: We had regular locks on our doors and didn't need to worry too much about dad wandering outside unnoticed.

Now: We have deadbolts that require a key from both sides on both the front and back doors. One Sunday when I went in at 8 a.m. to wake up dad to get ready for church he wasn't in bed. He also wasn't in either bathroom or his closet. We found him outside in the backyard, in his jammies and tennis shoes, pulling weeds in our lower yard...we had no idea how long he'd been out there. We promptly changed the lock on the front door, but didn't worry about the back door, because it's hard to open and dad doesn't use it...so we thought. Until one day there was a knock at the front doorbell and when we answered the door it was dad! He had gone out the back door and worked his way around the house pulling weeds and then couldn't figure out why the door was locked when he needed to go the bathroom.

Then: When it was bedtime, dad could take care of getting himself ready for bed. He always keeps his jammies under his pillow, so when he was ready for bed he did it himself. Later as he started forgetting why he was in his room, you could just lay out his pj's and leave him to get ready for bed.

Now: If you don't stay with dad and remind him what he's doing, he starts puttering around and doing other stuff, then goes to bed in his clothes.

Then: Dad knew I was his daughter, Michelle and would brag to strangers where ever we were...the store, the doctors office or the gas station.."That's my daughter" even though I hadn't really done anything to brag about.

Now: Quite often dad thinks I'm his sister Verna, or just knows I'm a nice girl taking care of him and will start to flirt with me. So now whenever he compliments me, I say "Thanks dad" to which his usual reply is "Am I really your dad?" The other day he asked me, "Have you seen mom lately?" I knew he was talking about his mom, so I just said, "No, not lately"

When dad was first diagnosed with this awful disease, I used to wonder how long it would take for him to completely forget us. Now I see that it is happening in stages. There will be periods of time when he seems to "get it" and knows us and remembers that I'm his daughter and Connor and Tanner are his grandsons, and then all of a sudden he doesn't know who we are...it's just that the periods are getting farther and farther apart.