Not long ago, my sister and mother took Dad for a check-up with an Alzheimer’s specialist. The doctor determined that Dad’s disease has progressed so that, cognitively, his AD is now severe. Dad was unable to answer questions, didn’t know where he was, etc.
On the brighter side, Dad was found to be in very good physical condition. That has helped him hang on (he’s a scrappy one, that dad of mine) and not succumb to so many of the sad side effects of AD: losing the ability to swallow, for example.
It’s odd…it’s not that this news of Dad’s cognitive condition was a surprise. We knew he had declined significantly in the last two years. Somehow, it felt like getting his AD diagnosis all over again.
You know…but you don’t want to know.
This is such a strange, prolonged time…waiting for Dad to pass. None of us want to lose him, but in a very real way, we already have. My sister noticed that we even talk about him in the past tense. I think what makes us most heavy-hearted is that he would have hated this ending to his life. Just hated it! Dad always wanted to drop in the harness.
Oh, the Lord’s ways…they are mysterious. And still, we believe.