Dad is in the hospital. It’s going on three weeks now. At first things didn’t look too good since he was so weak from some internal bleeding. That problem seems to have taken care of itself with a change of medication.
Another problem has developed – not sure what it is exactly – that keeps him from being able to bear weight. This means he is immobile and so can’t return home. It may be time for him to move to a care home. All transitions are difficult but are made more so by the Alzheimer’s disease.
I went up to visit the other day. I took along a few pictures of Mexico and of the ship we were on. I had fun telling him about the trip. He remembered me but I doubt he understands much about where I was. He kept commenting about the long trip I would have home, not remembering that I just live in town.
Our conversations are not usually profound. They can’t be anymore. But for some reason, I go back to visit. He won’t even remember that I was there. But the other day when I went he said, “It is so nice you came to visit. I love you.” I don’t think the conversation could get more profound than that for me. I am still my daddy’s girl.
More difficult days may be ahead. For now, the recognition that we love each other is enough reason for me to keep going back. Some days he can express it, some days not. Each day he can is a gift.