Flashback Everyday

I was scheduled to work late on Monday, so before I left Lowell, I headed up to see Dad. The last two visits were like night and day. One (on another Monday, found him sound asleep and even when he woke up and looked at me...there was no recognition. I poked at him and shook his shoulder, but no way was he opening his eyes. I thought, so this is it...he's really "thru the doors" (Sopranos...Assisted Living vs. Nursing home reference). I left in tears.

The next time, Janet, Patty and I stopped on the way home from Jeremy and Kelly's shower. He was up, dressed and in the tv room and smiled when he saw us. He still didn't say much, but he read what I wrote on a tablet, ate his shake and smiled at each of us.

So, when I went on Monday, I didn't know what to expect.

He was already in the lunch room, but no food yet. I of course, "spoiled his dinner" by bringing him a shake.

He was alert.

When I ask him "how are you feeling,? I got his standard go to joke where he rubs his thumb and finger together. I laugh and he smiles. He gulped the shake down and would eat if I fed him...what looked like pureed chicken, potatoes and something green that smelled like, guessing peas.

When I ask about the shake he says "cold."

When I ask about the food, he says "hot.

When I ask what the meat tastes like, he says "potatoes;" when I ask what the green stuff tastes like he says, "potatoes;" when I ask what the potatoes tastes like, he says "potatoes."

I thought well, at least he's talking.

Between the rotation of his orange juice, milk and shake, he says something about "mother."

I say, "Mother's Day was yesterday."

He says, "It was?" And something else about "mother" a question maybe.

By this time "Mr. $5300," one of the male nurses had set down and was helping the other lady at the table.

I tell dad, "I saw a picture of your mother."

"Where," he says.

Knowing that I can't explain the concept of my computer, I say in a book.

He then says something else about mother and then says, "I just got back."

"Back from where?"

"I've been away."

"Where've you been?"

"Oh...."

"Where?"

"Down there."

"Down where?"

"You've been there."

"You talkin' about Florida?"

"I just got back," he says.

"You went to Florida and didn't tell me?"

(slight sheepish smile)

"You mean you've been down in the sunshine, while I'm up here in the rainy cold?"

(more sheepish smile and a silent laugh that shook his shoulders)

"Were you fishing?"

(Big smile)

"Not too much," he says, apologetic.

Mr. $5300 is looking like, who is this guy? He never talks this much.

I say, "he's dreaming about Florida, they used to spend the winters there and he fished every day."

Mr. $5300 says, "What kind of fish did you catch?"

Dad is smiling and turning his palm like he used to do when he talked, but no words come out.

I say "Red Snappers?!"

And I swear his face went completely giddy like a little kid in a candy shop.

What a sight for sore eyes.

He then went back to about being down there and mother being there.

I say, "My mom or your mom."

"Both."

I nod my head.

"I think she's still down there," he says.

"mmmmmmm,"I continue slowly nodding, thinking ok....gotta go....now.

"yeah, maybe," I manage.

"Well, the next time you're gonna take off, you let me know and I'll go with you," I smile, pointing my finger at him."

He smiles back and says, "Okay."

The combination of watching the movie "The Savages" and with it getting harder and harder to get him in and out of the car to bring him to Sunday dinner, I have been feeling guilty about not seeing him as much. Or that so much time goes by between visits. I guess that is normal. As long as there are nursing homes, there will be guilt. Even when passing the ones in the hall that I don't even know, I feel guilty. Thinking of him there day after day, among strangers = in all honestly, guilt.

But Monday I left a little encouraged. I said "God, I can only hope that he honestly believes he just got back from Florida. I hope that he spends his sleeping and even some of his waking time dreaming of what made him the happiest." I want him in the present as far as we knowing and recognizing us, but as far as his health and surroundings, I can only hope that everyday is like Flashback Friday for him:

Full of Florida, his mom, my mom and red snappers.