Dear Dad
“At least I can tell the difference between f and ph,” I say.
We’re sitting in a doctor’s office, having just met with the neurologist that will be seeing us - well, you, really - every few months for who-knows-how-long. He’s just left the room, and the nurse came to meet with us to schedule your next appointment for sometime in December. After enough time has passed that we can get a new assessment for how your cognition is declining.
She’s asking my dad questions about the appointment we’ve just had.
She looks over at me. Her eyes are cold. And if I think about it, what I said is kind of a shitty thing to say to my dad who has Alzheimer’s.
But you start laughing, immediately, like I knew you would. It’s the best, your laugh. Big and takes over your whole body. You crinkle your eyes and smile this giant, goofy smile that takes over your whole face. You double-over and grab your sides, like it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard. A few tears stream out of your eyes.
It even makes me laugh, the way you laugh and make me feel like the funniest person you’ve ever met. Except I’m not, because that would be Steph. And she would never laugh at her own joke, but she couldn’t make it to your appointment today so we’ll all laugh at mine. Even me.
You always laugh at the cheap shots, the jokes we make at your expense. It’s our “thing,” the family quirk. In fact, it feels more weird to not make fun of you. It’s just what we do.
Just six months ago, you were diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Just six months ago, we learned, officially, that the you that we know won’t always be the you we get. We’ve known for a while that you had cognitive impairment, but we didn’t know what that meant or how it might play out. Maybe you’re just in your 70s, and that’s life. Maybe it was the mini strokes (this term terrifies me because implies no one knew…and they didn’t). Maybe it’s some kind of dementia. We just didn’t know…until we did.
It’s Alzheimer’s.
And some days, that feels so heavy. To know that you are going to forget more and more things.
So, I try to make it lighter. In the only way I know how.
Making fun of you.
Love you,
J
