Yesterday was my Dad's birthday. There's a lot of living in those 87 years and it's showing. The past several weeks have been hard for him and us. While his decline has been evident for some time, recently it had been startling. Numbers were always a gauge for me, the man was a whiz at remembering statistics that would have left my brain 5 seconds after I heard them. Lately though, he was losing facts and figures all too quickly.
A trip to the doctor on Thursday provided him with another new medication. It's scary to see the amount of pills needed to get through the day. Luckily my mother can still help with administering them, because I don't think his mind can process the schedules. One of the new meds seems to be helping. At yesterday's lunch with the assembled troops, he seemed more alert and able to enjoy himself. The week before he was filled with worry about every detail leading up to the party. This morning, he seemed better still. Able to vocalize full sentences, not just two or three words at a time. I am hopeful that the final drop in cognizance is not yet here.
After he blew out the five candles I had put on his cake, we looked at me and said thanks for not making him blow out too many. And in the eyes, the twinkle was there. It may not be there for a whole lot longer, but it was there yesterday...and that was his gift to me.
Love you Pops.
For another view of dealing with an aging parent, please read "Watching The Light Fade: The Heartbreak Of The Inevitable."
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