Places in between I went

Somehow, this week Dad seems older, all of a sudden. He’s having more trouble moving around, bending down to get the cat bowl from the floor, etc. He’s noticed it, too – out of the blue tonight he said, “I haven’t fallen down yet but I’m going to sooner or later.”

He’s also having more trouble expressing himself verbally. I used to be able to figure out what he meant, but now I can’t always tell. Dad says, “You know what’s the matter with me now? I can’t think of the right word. I can think of all kinds of words but I can’t get the right one. “ He seems to be better at understanding, but it’s a little hard to tell sometimes. I’m starting to get that feeling that we all had during the “bad years” of the AIDS epidemic – that desperate, try-anything, please-let-something-work feeling.

Jackson showed me a BBC article about a promising Alzheimer’s treatment, but it’s still very early in the development process. Even though this stuff is unproven in terms of effectiveness, if I could get my hands on some, I would give it to Dad myself.

A friend helped me move the sculptures that were left at MCC after the art show to Dad’s house. After he left, I unpacked the boxes, putting the sculptures, one by one, in front of Dad for him to “see” with his hands. I guided his fingers over each piece, explaining what he was feeling. He has always been my best audience.

Dad is watching the cat eat. He says, “I think she leaves a little bit for some arcane reason. She thinks that if it’s all gone then, heavens, wow! But if you leave a little bit it’s OK.”

“That’s interesting,” says Dad, as though someone has just said something to him, though nobody did “what holds all the flesh in the right place?” he asks, patting his cheek. “Well, your skin helps,” I say, “and you have muscles and things called ligaments that help hold it all together.”

“Do you still have plans about going south?” Dad asks. “I never had plans to go south,” I tell him. “I thought you did”, he says. “I’m not going to go away and leave you,” I tell him. “I would very very very be upset if you went away for two months, oh, my god,” he says. Dad is talking to me, but I have no idea what he means. “Piles of islands, he says “how many different people own part of it?” Then suddenly he makes sense. “ I’m glad you’re staying around, I thought maybe you were going away for six months.” “You’re the one who liked to travel,” I tell him. He agrees; “I did do a lot of traveling. Places in between I went. I always liked to travel.”