Bill
bhorowitz
2.1K111

As an older person from a working class family, and with only one parent left who now is in a nursing home with arterial dementia, I know how you feel. I looked after my father for nearly two decades,after his throat cancer . My father was devastated as was I when my mother died of a broken heart six months after my young brother was found dead at age 33.

My way of overcoming some of my head f*** was to spend most of my time with my father and go to A.A. meetings. My father was and still is my best friend.

I watch him try to focus on my face and listen to me as I try to convince him he is fine, I am fine and the world is fine. I love him and tell him so as I make sure his hearing aids have new batteries. My father has glucoma. He is registered blind and is now nearly deaf. My heart breaks as I kiss him on the forehead and tell him I love him and know I will get a reply as I turn to walk out the door, “ and I love you, unequivocally “ .

My best friend, slowly but surely disappearing before my eyes. I lost all contact with all my drinking buddies and friends years ago. This website has been a kind of lifeline, but I must get myself together and get prepared for my visit to see dad tomorrow. I now suffer from antisocial and agoraphobic behaviour, so life goes on one day at a time. One day at a time I am trying to fill the void with good deeds and good thoughts.

Life is a great thing, a good thing, and we must take it one day at a time.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.