....were great! That became a familiar theme whenever someone asked how we were doing. I would say "we're well; we're having a good day." Sure, Dad and I had difficult days, tough times, frustrations, but I can honestly say that we never had a "bad" day. How so? We were living one day at a time in the Lord's grace. Our cares were cast upon Him. He is our Advocate and Protector. Nothing about our family's situation caught Him off guard nor left Him wondering what He was going do. I am thankful that the Lord has His plans, but never any back-up plans.
Dementia added many complications to our lives, but no matter its difficulties, Dad never did anything wrong. When challenges arose, we would pause, take a breath, step back, admit that the challenge was not a big deal, set things in order and move on with our day. So no difficult day was ever a bad day, a day that made me regret my life with Dad or our family's decisions regarding his care. But many days were great. The Lord gave us many days where He miraculously subdued some of the disease's difficulties. He certainly tamed our/my reaction to the hardships, and gave us/me greater wisdom about what is important and what's not. So the good, but challenging days, were often surrounded by great days, filled with the kindness of the Lord, and love, both given and received, for our Dad.
Every day was a gift. And I thank the Lord for adding blessing to some days just in time to help me hold it together. And He often lavished that refreshment through my Dad, by leading him to cooperate in some simple way, or even better, an expression of appreciation or affection.
Good times! And yes of course, I miss them.
Thursday, March 1, 2018
Tuesday, February 27, 2018
Still Growing In Grace
I reaped so many personal benefits from this season with Dad. I can still experience the excitement of the Lord just like when I first met Him. I can still learn. I am still teachable. I can adapt. I must continue to be flexible. I haven't arrived, and I know it. That's good to remember. Contentment is at home with me, and it is so welcome. There's always room for more of it. Knowing that there is a blurry line between contentment and complacency motivates me to be vigilant, and reminds me of the prophetic nature of my given first name ("Gregory"), and what the Lord would eventually do in me and through me. Look up its meaning if you are curious, but in ancient languages, my name is derived from the word that means "to stay awake, to be vigilant, responsible, watchful."
Notice the word "responsible." One use of the word is in Matthew 25:13, "watch therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour." Talk about responsibility! My task from the Lord is not just to talk about the distresses of the day or complain about injustices or evils; I am responsible to act rightly and guide others in a priestly manner to be watchful of the Lord, His ways, and His return. That's why I sarcastically smirk at this generation's enlightenment that it is arriving to a higher learning and is now "woke". Void of wisdom, our culture today has done less with its learning opportunities than any previous generation with its information and level of discovery. Knowledge is the accumulation of information, facts, opinions, perspectives, etc and much of it has no relevance on anything important or eternal. Wisdom is the spiritual ability to process and apply that information in a way that highlights the person of God and His purposes. Wisdom is the real "woke"ness. HA! And it is in short supply today.
Scripture invites, urges, admonishes, even commands and demands that we "grow in grace and the knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ." (II Pet 3:18) My years with Dad affirmed that I can and am still growing, learning, assimilating and acting upon wisdom, sorting things that are true from the false, and the eternally important from the worldly mundane. I have often asked the Lord to never let me grow bitter as I age, to never let me get away with thinking I have arrived, to always remind me I can and must grow in Him, and that if I reach a place of bitterness, complacency, or self-sufficiency, I expect that He will deal with me firmly. I have asked for it, and I should expect it. Praise God! He's still working me......
Notice the word "responsible." One use of the word is in Matthew 25:13, "watch therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour." Talk about responsibility! My task from the Lord is not just to talk about the distresses of the day or complain about injustices or evils; I am responsible to act rightly and guide others in a priestly manner to be watchful of the Lord, His ways, and His return. That's why I sarcastically smirk at this generation's enlightenment that it is arriving to a higher learning and is now "woke". Void of wisdom, our culture today has done less with its learning opportunities than any previous generation with its information and level of discovery. Knowledge is the accumulation of information, facts, opinions, perspectives, etc and much of it has no relevance on anything important or eternal. Wisdom is the spiritual ability to process and apply that information in a way that highlights the person of God and His purposes. Wisdom is the real "woke"ness. HA! And it is in short supply today.
Scripture invites, urges, admonishes, even commands and demands that we "grow in grace and the knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ." (II Pet 3:18) My years with Dad affirmed that I can and am still growing, learning, assimilating and acting upon wisdom, sorting things that are true from the false, and the eternally important from the worldly mundane. I have often asked the Lord to never let me grow bitter as I age, to never let me get away with thinking I have arrived, to always remind me I can and must grow in Him, and that if I reach a place of bitterness, complacency, or self-sufficiency, I expect that He will deal with me firmly. I have asked for it, and I should expect it. Praise God! He's still working me......
Sunday, February 25, 2018
Writer's Block
I have enjoyed writing these God stories about my years with Dad. It has been awesome to experience the Lord through this, and honestly, there are some spiritual lessons I'm learning now that I have time to look back and reflect. Time was always a premium, often escaped me, and I did not manage it well. I enjoy getting out and about, meeting folks and being more social again, but strangely, I find it is a hindrance to my writing. I understand why writers often get away to secluded locales. It makes sense now. I have been receiving feedback from the people who are following along. I hear you, and I appreciate you and your interest.
I pray that I will be able to continue as long as the Lord gives me the mind and wisdom to write on. Some of these topics are serious and hurtful. I know I need the mind of Christ to write and speak rightly. I pray He will grant it, and I will properly deploy it to edify all of you.
I pray that I will be able to continue as long as the Lord gives me the mind and wisdom to write on. Some of these topics are serious and hurtful. I know I need the mind of Christ to write and speak rightly. I pray He will grant it, and I will properly deploy it to edify all of you.
Friday, February 23, 2018
The Best Medicine For Dad's Dementia
Dad was first diagnosed in 2011 with a form of age-related senile dementia. It was mild in nature, and progressing at a very slow pace. In fact, during the years 2011-2013, he was highly functional, capable of independent-living, and performing the role of caregiver for his late wife Peggy. He could drive safely, run errands, garden moderately, and easily perform most basic tasks. During the years 2014-2015, Dad was functional, but needed more helps and reminders to take care of diet, wellness, hygiene, etc. Years 2016-2017 were the most difficult, as Dad eventually required much more oversight and assistance. By late 2017, Dad could not perform any task without step-by-step supervision or simply having someone else to do whatever was needed on his behalf.
Our family knows and believes that he flourished best at home. He was blessed to have limited physical problems and required minimal medical care, especially compared to the needs of many other aging seniors. I have no doubt that the love and TLC of family, along with the familiarity of his home, consistency and order, were the most effective medicines to slow the progress of his disease.
Doctors prescribed 3 different Alzheimer's medications over the course of Dad's illness. He never took all three concurrently, at most one or two at a time. I did some research and reading on Alzheimer's and aged-related dementia, and while future breakthroughs may find preventative and corrective cures, the commonly available medicines are not that at all. They are prescribed widely because the data suggests that some people will respond to the medicines with improved functionality performing their basic life-skills, for up to 2 years or so, during the early phase of the disease. Ultimately, the medicines cure nothing. In Dad's case, there was no noticeable benefit, but since he experienced no difficult side effects, he took the prescriptions consistently until mid 2017 when he lost the ability to swallow pills. He never lost his desire or ability to swallow food, but pills became a problem for him. I did not worry about his self-weaning from them, and continued to hand them to him to "take" simply because, in trying to swallow them, he would always drink a few extra sips of water which was a more important need for him.
My completely biased, non-scientific opinion leads me to believe that other at-home treatments worked wonders: being home, around family, activity, robust walking (all the way until Spring 2017), doing every task he could do for as long as he could do, reading, looking at newspapers/magazines, getting out in public, shopping, dining out, spending time with God's people at the Chapel, and of course, having regular God talks and moments of prayer.
While I would never dismiss the competent advice and help of medical professionals, we must never put our faith in them or their prescriptions. Don't underestimate what your personal investment and TLC can do to heal the heart, mind, spirit, and body of your loved one.
Our family knows and believes that he flourished best at home. He was blessed to have limited physical problems and required minimal medical care, especially compared to the needs of many other aging seniors. I have no doubt that the love and TLC of family, along with the familiarity of his home, consistency and order, were the most effective medicines to slow the progress of his disease.
Doctors prescribed 3 different Alzheimer's medications over the course of Dad's illness. He never took all three concurrently, at most one or two at a time. I did some research and reading on Alzheimer's and aged-related dementia, and while future breakthroughs may find preventative and corrective cures, the commonly available medicines are not that at all. They are prescribed widely because the data suggests that some people will respond to the medicines with improved functionality performing their basic life-skills, for up to 2 years or so, during the early phase of the disease. Ultimately, the medicines cure nothing. In Dad's case, there was no noticeable benefit, but since he experienced no difficult side effects, he took the prescriptions consistently until mid 2017 when he lost the ability to swallow pills. He never lost his desire or ability to swallow food, but pills became a problem for him. I did not worry about his self-weaning from them, and continued to hand them to him to "take" simply because, in trying to swallow them, he would always drink a few extra sips of water which was a more important need for him.
My completely biased, non-scientific opinion leads me to believe that other at-home treatments worked wonders: being home, around family, activity, robust walking (all the way until Spring 2017), doing every task he could do for as long as he could do, reading, looking at newspapers/magazines, getting out in public, shopping, dining out, spending time with God's people at the Chapel, and of course, having regular God talks and moments of prayer.
While I would never dismiss the competent advice and help of medical professionals, we must never put our faith in them or their prescriptions. Don't underestimate what your personal investment and TLC can do to heal the heart, mind, spirit, and body of your loved one.
Wednesday, February 21, 2018
Dad Appeared To "Un-learn" His Life
I have written about Dad's condition, struggle with dementia, and how it effected him. While he did not lose his mind, his memory, or his awareness, he lost the ability to speak or act upon that knowledge. The practical effect was it seemed that Dad went through a process of unlearning his life. That's just a phrase I use to describe what happened to him outwardly.
His dementia was never mere randomness or incoherency, nor did he become an entirely different person. Dad had many talents and abilities, but as the dementia eroded Dad's skill levels, he seemed to change from a mature, self-sufficient man to an adolescent to an elementary school child, and finally a toddler. I knew him as a fully-formed, able man for all of my life. When I moved in with him four years ago, he was about like a mid/late teenager, still highly functional, driving well and safely, but beginning to show the evidence of judgment lapses and gaps in common sense that frustrate us about the typical teenager. Over time, he required more oversight (basically, middle school-like) then onto to more nurturing and re-assuring (elementary-school like) and finally onto the stage of total dependency ( a lovable toddler). He was never a lesser man. He never lost the dignity of God's creation or Christ's redemption, and that's why I say that his dementia added to our relationship. The disease took nothing from us, yet gave us so much more.
One of the blessings I received from living with Dad is that I was given a window into what he was like as a youth, and then a child. It was fascinating! It reminded me that by nature, we are all the same and must overcome, through Christ, the same struggles. At times, Dad could be child-like, peevish, get frustrated, confused, or scared, sometimes open to help, sometimes resistant to help, he could listen to advice or not be interested, could deflect and deny he had done something (even though I always told him, "Dad, you've done nothing wrong; I just want to help if I can"). He showed pride in doing something right or well. He anguished when he knew he had missed the mark on some task. He often wanted to please me by his actions.
It was marvelous. It was a bit mysterious, yet it was miraculous to witness the grace of the Lord sustain us, to help us communicate when words would not work, to read each other, to comfort each other, and to love each other. I always loved my Dad as best a son could do, but the Lord taught me to love him even more, and I thank Him for allowing me to witness my Dad's entire life span and to appreciate his total person. Very few people get to experience a parent in this way. My family and I were so blessed to be given this opportunity.
His dementia was never mere randomness or incoherency, nor did he become an entirely different person. Dad had many talents and abilities, but as the dementia eroded Dad's skill levels, he seemed to change from a mature, self-sufficient man to an adolescent to an elementary school child, and finally a toddler. I knew him as a fully-formed, able man for all of my life. When I moved in with him four years ago, he was about like a mid/late teenager, still highly functional, driving well and safely, but beginning to show the evidence of judgment lapses and gaps in common sense that frustrate us about the typical teenager. Over time, he required more oversight (basically, middle school-like) then onto to more nurturing and re-assuring (elementary-school like) and finally onto the stage of total dependency ( a lovable toddler). He was never a lesser man. He never lost the dignity of God's creation or Christ's redemption, and that's why I say that his dementia added to our relationship. The disease took nothing from us, yet gave us so much more.
One of the blessings I received from living with Dad is that I was given a window into what he was like as a youth, and then a child. It was fascinating! It reminded me that by nature, we are all the same and must overcome, through Christ, the same struggles. At times, Dad could be child-like, peevish, get frustrated, confused, or scared, sometimes open to help, sometimes resistant to help, he could listen to advice or not be interested, could deflect and deny he had done something (even though I always told him, "Dad, you've done nothing wrong; I just want to help if I can"). He showed pride in doing something right or well. He anguished when he knew he had missed the mark on some task. He often wanted to please me by his actions.
It was marvelous. It was a bit mysterious, yet it was miraculous to witness the grace of the Lord sustain us, to help us communicate when words would not work, to read each other, to comfort each other, and to love each other. I always loved my Dad as best a son could do, but the Lord taught me to love him even more, and I thank Him for allowing me to witness my Dad's entire life span and to appreciate his total person. Very few people get to experience a parent in this way. My family and I were so blessed to be given this opportunity.
Monday, February 19, 2018
The Caregiver's Calling: A Privilege Of Service
Caregiving is an awesome privilege and responsibility. What else could I have done that would have been more soul-satisfying during the last four years?
To be an in-home, live-in caregiver requires a personal revolution, not just a new address, but a re-orientation of life goals and a realignment of priorities. The upheaval can be a mutual blessing for the giver and the recipient if you know you are walking with the Lord, that He has appointed this season of service for you, and that you are walking in obedience to Him. Obedience ALWAYS brings blessing.
From the world's perspective, I should:
-make a name for myself
-work a professional job
-earn plenty of money
-live comfortably
-build a secure, retirement nestegg
-be involved in civics
-throw a bone to charity by giving to or working with a community organization
And then, I could think about my Dad occasionally and visit him when it was convenient. Uhh...no thanks!
From the church's perspective, I should:
-pastor a church
-preach/teach 3 times per week
-shepherd the flock
-lead a community outreach ministry
-organize believers and engage them, and of course myself, for worldwide missions
This is usually the stuff of the Kingdom, but knowing what the Lord appointed me to do in this season of life, I would have grieved and regretted every day that I did not obey Him and serve my Dad in his years of need. So once again, no thanks!
I have always received plenty of advice on what to do with my life, and my season with Dad was no exception. Honestly, I'm glad I didn't follow some of the things I heard, from people both inside and outside the church. What many have in common is that they (1) don't know the Lord or His ways (2) don't understand the calling or its burden and/or (3) are too heavily invested in the cares of this world. You can be sure that you are called by God to a task, any task, any ministry, any purpose, when you cannot do anything else. If you try to do anything else, you will "burn" up inside. I will eventually write more about the caregiver's guilt; it is a potent weapon of the enemy. But if you face a care-giving situation in the future, I urge you to heed the call of the Lord and do what He would have you to do. His call on your life may not resemble how He led me. He's Lord. He's in charge. He gets to call the shots. How He led me is not "the" blueprint of His plans for you. A caregiver has to fend off plenty of guilt, whether it is real or artificially contrived. Don't unnecessarily add to it. Just obey the Lord to do what he gifted and enabled you to do.
So, to answer the question at the beginning, I can say without a doubt.....It is well. It is well with my soul.
To be an in-home, live-in caregiver requires a personal revolution, not just a new address, but a re-orientation of life goals and a realignment of priorities. The upheaval can be a mutual blessing for the giver and the recipient if you know you are walking with the Lord, that He has appointed this season of service for you, and that you are walking in obedience to Him. Obedience ALWAYS brings blessing.
From the world's perspective, I should:
-make a name for myself
-work a professional job
-earn plenty of money
-live comfortably
-build a secure, retirement nestegg
-be involved in civics
-throw a bone to charity by giving to or working with a community organization
And then, I could think about my Dad occasionally and visit him when it was convenient. Uhh...no thanks!
From the church's perspective, I should:
-pastor a church
-preach/teach 3 times per week
-shepherd the flock
-lead a community outreach ministry
-organize believers and engage them, and of course myself, for worldwide missions
This is usually the stuff of the Kingdom, but knowing what the Lord appointed me to do in this season of life, I would have grieved and regretted every day that I did not obey Him and serve my Dad in his years of need. So once again, no thanks!
I have always received plenty of advice on what to do with my life, and my season with Dad was no exception. Honestly, I'm glad I didn't follow some of the things I heard, from people both inside and outside the church. What many have in common is that they (1) don't know the Lord or His ways (2) don't understand the calling or its burden and/or (3) are too heavily invested in the cares of this world. You can be sure that you are called by God to a task, any task, any ministry, any purpose, when you cannot do anything else. If you try to do anything else, you will "burn" up inside. I will eventually write more about the caregiver's guilt; it is a potent weapon of the enemy. But if you face a care-giving situation in the future, I urge you to heed the call of the Lord and do what He would have you to do. His call on your life may not resemble how He led me. He's Lord. He's in charge. He gets to call the shots. How He led me is not "the" blueprint of His plans for you. A caregiver has to fend off plenty of guilt, whether it is real or artificially contrived. Don't unnecessarily add to it. Just obey the Lord to do what he gifted and enabled you to do.
So, to answer the question at the beginning, I can say without a doubt.....It is well. It is well with my soul.
What Could Have Been More Soul-Satisfying?
A long time ago, I was asked about my life choices, leaving the professional workforce, moving on from a pastoral ministry, moving on from a missionary church planting ministry, then returning home to help care for my Dad. I am a middle-aged man, in good health with robust vitality, and whether from a spiritual or worldly perspective, I am still in what most people consider prime working or ministry years. So, at my age, with my education, background, experience, the question directed to me went something like this: "at your age, how can you justify not having a job or doing anything with your life?"
As tough or accusatory as that question was to hear, I learned long ago never to automatically dismiss questions or criticisms no matter how they make me feel. We can always learn something, even from the most ridiculous or unjust comments, if we will lay aside our egos to listen, then ask "Lord, what are You saying to me?"
So in this season of life, what should this middle-aged man have been doing other than caring for his Dad and shepherding a church with just 2 members, Dad and me?
Work a professional job? Earn alot of money? Build my retirement nest egg? Some form of charity work? Pastor a church? Launch a new ministry? Travel the world as a missionary?
What could I have done that would have more soul-satisfying? My next article will answer the question.
As tough or accusatory as that question was to hear, I learned long ago never to automatically dismiss questions or criticisms no matter how they make me feel. We can always learn something, even from the most ridiculous or unjust comments, if we will lay aside our egos to listen, then ask "Lord, what are You saying to me?"
So in this season of life, what should this middle-aged man have been doing other than caring for his Dad and shepherding a church with just 2 members, Dad and me?
Work a professional job? Earn alot of money? Build my retirement nest egg? Some form of charity work? Pastor a church? Launch a new ministry? Travel the world as a missionary?
What could I have done that would have more soul-satisfying? My next article will answer the question.
Saturday, February 17, 2018
It's Strange To Be Out And About Without Dad
Dad and I went everywhere together. Whenever I suggested, "let's go for a ride", "let's go get something to eat", or "let's go to the store", he was always ready to go. He liked getting out, and I wanted him up and about and in public as much as possible. Isolation is an inevitable struggle for a dementia patient and the caregiver, but social activity and co-mingling with others is a balm for both people too. Unlike the Alzheimer's medications Dad was prescribed, numerous things we did likely slowed the progression and effects of the dementia. Interacting with other people and maintaining a public presence was one of them.
I enjoyed being with him in all of these settings. It was fun to sit next to him in Chapel for Sunday services, and occasionally catch him mouthing a few words of a familiar hymn. What a blessing! It was fun to watch him eat at home or in a restaurant. He took his time, alot of it, no matter where we ate. He savored every mouthful, and eventually taught me to take my time too. And I enjoyed going shopping with him. We didn't buy too much on any one trip. We would buy a few items, because it gave me an excuse to go again in 2 or 3 days. We walked all over the stores together, inspecting items, occasionally buying something new to try out, but usually looking at them and giving them the thumbs down. Store managers had no idea how much Dad helped tidy up their shelves. Dad had a keen eye for keeping things in-line. As we walked down the aisles, Dad would straighten up every thing, especially if something was out of alignment. They don't know the identity of their volunteer helper, but they definitely have more work without him.
I miss him in so many ways, and especially when I go shopping. It's strange to walk the aisles without him. I reach for his favorite items, and have to consciously remind myself, "no Greg, Dad doesn't need or want that now."
I enjoyed being with him in all of these settings. It was fun to sit next to him in Chapel for Sunday services, and occasionally catch him mouthing a few words of a familiar hymn. What a blessing! It was fun to watch him eat at home or in a restaurant. He took his time, alot of it, no matter where we ate. He savored every mouthful, and eventually taught me to take my time too. And I enjoyed going shopping with him. We didn't buy too much on any one trip. We would buy a few items, because it gave me an excuse to go again in 2 or 3 days. We walked all over the stores together, inspecting items, occasionally buying something new to try out, but usually looking at them and giving them the thumbs down. Store managers had no idea how much Dad helped tidy up their shelves. Dad had a keen eye for keeping things in-line. As we walked down the aisles, Dad would straighten up every thing, especially if something was out of alignment. They don't know the identity of their volunteer helper, but they definitely have more work without him.
I miss him in so many ways, and especially when I go shopping. It's strange to walk the aisles without him. I reach for his favorite items, and have to consciously remind myself, "no Greg, Dad doesn't need or want that now."
Thursday, February 15, 2018
Caregiving: You Don't Just Turn It Off
A caregiver doesn't just turn off the love and service and then move on to something else when his long-term ministry ends for a loved one. I anticipate a prolonged season of adjustment, listening to the Lord, celebrating our victories, grieving what has happened, and waiting for Him to show me what's next for my next season of life with the Lord.
But to give you an idea of how engrained caregiving forms within your heart, I would give anything to spend another week or day with Dad, going through all of our usual routines, fighting through the daily struggles. It's that good. He's that worth it! Another smile. Another pat on the knee or shoulder. Another morning to watch him gobble up a "sweet biscuit" (Little Debbie snack) with his coffee. Another grin while he's enjoying a meal. Another ride in the truck around town. Another chance to tuck him in bed. No price is too high to pay for that privilege.
Of course, given what he has experienced of the Lord since his departure from our world, Dad would have a different opinion about whether he would like another day of dementia down here. So, there's that, AND that really really does matter, AND that is very very real.
But to give you an idea of how engrained caregiving forms within your heart, I would give anything to spend another week or day with Dad, going through all of our usual routines, fighting through the daily struggles. It's that good. He's that worth it! Another smile. Another pat on the knee or shoulder. Another morning to watch him gobble up a "sweet biscuit" (Little Debbie snack) with his coffee. Another grin while he's enjoying a meal. Another ride in the truck around town. Another chance to tuck him in bed. No price is too high to pay for that privilege.
Of course, given what he has experienced of the Lord since his departure from our world, Dad would have a different opinion about whether he would like another day of dementia down here. So, there's that, AND that really really does matter, AND that is very very real.
Wednesday, February 14, 2018
A Humiliation That Dad Never Forgot
Years ago and during the early phase of Dad's dementia, he was highly functional in many ways, driving successfully and safely, caring for his wife Peggy during her cancer illness, and carrying on with life. His forgetful moments were just that, moments, certainly nothing that harmed himself or anyone else. We kept a watchful eye on how he was doing and knew that he would need help eventually, but his regression was slow and mild.
One event, over 5 years ago, stands out in my mind as an important event in this journey. He was a regular customer at a local restaurant, usually preparing a take-out plate to bring home and share with Peggy. He did this often. He patronized that business often. One day, Dad went and prepared a to-go plate as usual, went to the register to pay, and realized he forgot his wallet. He told the owner that he would leave the box on the counter, go home, get his wallet, and be right back to pay. The owner's reaction was cruel, and nothing short of elder humiliation. He ordered my dad out of the restaurant and told him to never come back. If you think that's bizarre, then you are right. If you think there's got to be more to the story, I thought so too, but Peggy, knowing my dad's hearing was not the best, called the restaurant, spoke to the owner's wife, confirmed it happened, and admitted that she could not explain it.
Being the adaptable man he was, Dad carried on, doing his best, and took his business elsewhere. When we heard the story, I was angry. I think all of us were. I thought about going there to confront the man. I thought about waging a PR campaign, and take out a full-page ad in the local paper about how that business treats the elderly, but calm prevailed because Dad's calm prevailed. He was ok, and wanted no trouble and nothing more to do with that business. So, our family (including extended members who also knew) agreed with him that a quiet boycott was enough. BUT Dad never forgot that public humiliation. During my years with him, he often mentioned that he was not welcome at that place, and when he reached the point that he said very little, he would look or point at it and shake his head "no".
That's another one of many reasons I know that Dad did not lose his mind. He knew everything and everyone. He simply lost the ability to act upon that knowledge or express it openly.
One event, over 5 years ago, stands out in my mind as an important event in this journey. He was a regular customer at a local restaurant, usually preparing a take-out plate to bring home and share with Peggy. He did this often. He patronized that business often. One day, Dad went and prepared a to-go plate as usual, went to the register to pay, and realized he forgot his wallet. He told the owner that he would leave the box on the counter, go home, get his wallet, and be right back to pay. The owner's reaction was cruel, and nothing short of elder humiliation. He ordered my dad out of the restaurant and told him to never come back. If you think that's bizarre, then you are right. If you think there's got to be more to the story, I thought so too, but Peggy, knowing my dad's hearing was not the best, called the restaurant, spoke to the owner's wife, confirmed it happened, and admitted that she could not explain it.
Being the adaptable man he was, Dad carried on, doing his best, and took his business elsewhere. When we heard the story, I was angry. I think all of us were. I thought about going there to confront the man. I thought about waging a PR campaign, and take out a full-page ad in the local paper about how that business treats the elderly, but calm prevailed because Dad's calm prevailed. He was ok, and wanted no trouble and nothing more to do with that business. So, our family (including extended members who also knew) agreed with him that a quiet boycott was enough. BUT Dad never forgot that public humiliation. During my years with him, he often mentioned that he was not welcome at that place, and when he reached the point that he said very little, he would look or point at it and shake his head "no".
That's another one of many reasons I know that Dad did not lose his mind. He knew everything and everyone. He simply lost the ability to act upon that knowledge or express it openly.
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