Facing the Ghosts of our Loved Ones with Dementia

Twice in the past week I have driven by a bakery that makes saltenas that I took my Dad to in the last month of his life. Right after I was told he had a tumor on his tongue, we had a variety of appointments to figure out what it was and how to treat it. One of the first appointments was a scan to identify the size of the tumor. As I was sitting at the office waiting for him to return with the medical assistant, I did a search on Yelp for a lunch place. The bakery had great reviews and I knew my Dad would enjoy something out of the routine.

I had hoped that the soft beef and potatoes would be easy for my Dad to eat, but he struggled through lunch. He continued to be his strong, stoic self and tried to enjoy the meal. I had no idea how sick he was but immediately recognized that it was just too painful for him to eat. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t recognized this earlier. Just like he hid his dementia, he did a good job of hiding the fact that he wasn’t really eating much anymore. I had noticed that he was losing weight and asked the doctors but they chalked it up to his disease state.

I was surprised the first time I drove by the bakery. I immediately recognized the area and the last time I’d been in this here. When I drove by it again today, tears started to form. I quickly remind myself that my Dad’s in a better place.

I miss his quiet calm and his good nature. I wonder if there will ever be a time when these memories don’t bring tears to my eyes. I’m not sure if that is a good thing. Missed. 

Background: Last year at 5:45 pm on the Friday of Labor Day weekend, the nurse from the medical team at my parent’s retirement community called to tell me they found a tumor on my Dad’s tongue and he needed to get to an oral surgeon ASAP. Over the next weeks we worked to get a diagnosis and determine treatment options. We never made it through the gauntlet to get him into treatment and he died in a hospice facility four weeks later. While I feel regret that I couldn’t have caught this earlier, I had been trying to find out why my Dad was slurring for months and took him to an external doctor for a second opinion. I know that in some ways this was a blessing and he didn’t have to continue to live while the Alzheimer’s robbed him of his self. I’m still a bit conflicted over these events.