Life with Dad

Caring for someone with dementia, you have to laugh to keep from crying.

Name:
Location: Texas

This blog is a reflection on being a member of the "sandwich generation". We are those sandwiched between aging parents who need care and/or help and their own children. After an extensive remodel of our house, we moved my parents in with us. Dad has Alzheimer’s, which adds complications to the situation.

Friday, March 11, 2005

Recognition

Dad is having a hard time recognizing people. I don't know if this is because of his increasing dementia or his progressive blindness due to macular degeneration and cataracts. Dad still knows the names of his wife and children, and he calls for Mama by name when he needs something. However, he no longer seems able to attach the names to the person standing in the room with him.

Last night, he was in a fantasy world about his family. I don't know if he believed what he was saying, or he was having wishful thinking.

"My son is retired. That is what he is." (My brother is 47 and no where close to retirement.)

"My son made lots of money. That is what he did. He could retire any time he wanted. That is what he could do." (My brother only wishes.)

"My son bought the lot next door. He built his house there. That is what he did." (My brother lives 3 hours away. He has not lived close to my parents since he graduated from medical school.)

"When we built our house, we bought a big lot. That is what we did. The lot was big enought for my daughter to have her own lot. That is what it was. My daughter built her house on our lot. That is what she did." (My parents have never bought a lot or built a house. Dad's parents did, at least once if not more. My husband and I have never had our own house built, but we did have a major building project to add on and remodel our existing house so Mama and Dad could move in.)

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