Thursday 28th December 2022
It was/is my Dad's birthday. I never know what tense to use. Last year when I spent my first few trial months of nomadic living in Durban, I visited my dad in his care home every week. I wrote about the visits with a loose idea of a book about elderly parents with dementia. I'm going to post a sample here. It's a long and possibly sad read, but today gave me a chance to sit my thoughts and grief. So I'm taking a 'time-out'....
Last visit to Dad.
My last visit for now, as I return to my home city some 600km away, was a pleasant one. I had my run in rather hot weather and drove straight to 7th Heaven. I often wondered about the name choice but have never asked why.
I could tell it was hot because none of the old biddies had blankets on them and the 100 year old dear, didn't have her knitted beanie on.
Due to the heat, Dad was dressed in his shorts and a vest and I was stunned by how skinny his legs looked. I knew he was skinny but seeing the milky white, gangly legs folded immobile stopped me in my tracks. He looked smaller without his blanket and big woolly jumper but he seemed to be more awake. He almost smiled as I pulled up my stool and asked him how he was and what he was up to. To my huge surprise he answered something in a whisper, so I leaned in hoping he'd repeat his reply
"Just lying about…"
I laughed out loud at his witty response and at the same time wondered if he was aware of his sedentary life of … well lying around.
I glanced around the room at the other 12 elders in various stages of sleep. Some looked peaceful, some had a tortured look of a dreadful dream and realised that dad seemed the most awake of all of them. Another part of me again wondered what the point of this kind of life is..but those questions will never be answered properly.
All the carers looked different and I realised that they must be the students that the care home owner, Shirley mentioned the last time. I was curious if the original staff would be on duty again but Shirley wasn't there to ask.
I turned my attention back to dad. His eyes searched mine as I delved deep into his alert look too, prying and peering and wondered where he is. His unshaven lips started to form words so I leaned in to hear. I realised that I was desperate to catch any sense of words, ready to translate and communicate with him.
"Is today a holiday, because there's nobody in?" He asked very clearly.
I looked around the room and realised that he also knew the carers were different. I said that Monday had been a holiday. I was quite impressed with his lucidity this time. My usual 'gift' of chocolate had melted in the car so was regrouping in the fridge. It seemed like he was looking for it, so I started explaining the melting but he kept mouthing 'what' so I stopped. I took out my camera and his eyes darted quickly to it and I felt terrible because it wasn't the chocolate.
Suddenly, again very clearly, he asked
"Where's Cathie?" I was surprised and told him that I am here. Then I started wondering if he was meaning mum, because we shared a name. Again I started asking
"Do you mean your wife…?" But he was too confused so I just pointed to myself and said I'm Cathie.
The silence returned and then there was movement behind me with the students taking some of the ladies out of the lounge and he followed every move with his tired eyes. His gaze shifted back to me and again a clear question
"What are you doing with the rest of the day?"
I laughed and thought the easiest answer would be something he might understand
"Work" I said unconvincingly
"Work?"
"Yes, work?"
"What work?"
I think I was found out, I laughed at the puzzlement on his face. He kept mouthing the word work like he'd never heard of it before and especially not from me.
Without the chocolate to distract me I started getting my phone out again and he asked
"Where's Alfie?"
I started explaining that he's in Scotland but he looked puzzled so I showed him some pictures from Facebook. His spindly fingers were pointing at the screen so I moved my stool round beside him to see where he was looking. He looked at me while pointing at Alfie and said
"He's lost a lot of hair"
I wondered if he was thinking of him as a young boy and I wondered if he would recognise him as a younger man but he didn't. I pointed out some of the other people and then showed him a young picture of himself and mum but showed no recognition when I said 'Cathie'. Suddenly he asked where is Kevin, so I hunted down a picture of him to which he said unkindly
"He's getting on a bit.."
"We all are, dad"
I moved my chair back to face him and as I was settling down he blurted out
"He's just killed her"
On looking up I realised that he was watching the TV on the far wall. I nodded my head wondering if he had any opinion on that. But he didn't continue with his observations and the silence resumed. His eyes dropped to his hands and I got the sense that he was waning.
The lump in my chest was brimming under the surface although I was very grateful to be able to visit him,visiting Dad for the last time for a while was clutching my heart strings. I stroked his sticky head, aware that he seemed oblivious to the heat. I quickly announced that I was going to go now. He seemed to stir out of his oblivious zone and pouted his lips. I laughed as I bent down to kiss him.
'Love you, Dad..'
His eyes followed me as I stood up and he started blowing kisses again.
'Until next time' I said trying to give myself the reassurance that I wasn’t feeling.
I climbed back in my car holding back the tears as I programmed my maps to check on the traffic to take me back to my bnb.
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