The Reality of Alzheimer's - A Daughter's Take

My parents came down for Thanksgiving this year. These times with them are special to me, and I'll be honest, I was not the ideal daughter this trip. I was overwhelmed by my Dad's Alzheimer's. Can I be really honest and say that I am ashamed to admit that?


The intelligent, article reading, finding all the facts part of me knows that my Dad will never be my Dad again. He was lost a few years ago when the diagnosis was made. Sure, he looks like my Dad, still kind of acts like my Dad, but he's not my Dad. He's the shell of my Dad. The emotional, self-proclaimed Daddy's girl is having a hard time coming to grips with this reality.


To see the confusion in his eyes and frustration quickly replace it was hard.


To hear him ask if this is where he lives now and ask what happened to their house was hard.


To see this disease weave in and out throughout each day was hard.


But you know what else was hard? To see the toll it takes on my Mom. She is his 24/7 caregiver and it's wearing on her. I know I was getting irritated when she would respond in a not so nice tone, or take her frustration out on me (and maybe I did the same), but at the end of the day, I cannot imagine what this is like for her. The man she married almost 57 years ago is not that same man.


And you know what else was hard? To see my kids handle it better than I did. They rolled with it while I crumbled. We went to the movies and my dude was there for my Dad every step of the way while I was stifling an anxiety attack.


This disease is more than forgetfulness and it affects more than just the patient. It ripples throughout the family like a boulder being thrown into one of those picturesque ponds. Everyone handles it differently, and I thought in my heart of hearts I handled it well before this trip. I thought I was one of the strong ones because I did the research, I studied up on the facts, but in reality, I'm a coward that does not want to face the reality. I have my head buried in the sand, and that sometimes feels like it's burying my head a little deeper with each conversation.


I wish I was stronger. I wish I could do more. I wish I was a better daughter on this trip. I wish a lot of things really. I wish my Mom had the man she fell in love with to grow old with without this disease. I wish he could have his memories. But most of all I wish nobody else has to go through this. I wish we had a cure or hope for a cure.