I Can Tell By His Stare
A caregiver’s nightmare
As I look into his hazel eyes
And see he isn’t there
It’s so strange a feeling
When he looks through me
As if I wasn’t there
The struggle with dementia is
You don’t know what is real
He’s alert, and then he’s gone
I don’t know how to feel
It’s not like the aphasia
That took away his voice
He didn’t have a say
It took away his choice
It’s not because of Parkinson’s
Unfortunately, he has that too
It’s like there aren’t any lights on
When he’s looking back at you
The pain of dealing with my dad
Is painful, can’t you see?
He really can’t do much at all
Except occasionally
We play a game that makes some words
It’s then I know he’s sharp
Yet, later, when I talk to him
The blank stare plucks at my heart
I don’t want to lose him
Just stop the misery
The suffering and the pain
I wish I could turn back the clock
And have my dad whole again
My dad is staying with me after a 4-day hospital stay due to repeated falls at his home. The struggle to communicate with him is reaching critical mass; even the whiteboard isn’t much help anymore because the words he wants to say aren’t translating to the board anymore.
Home health is coming out now, so in addition to OT and PT therapy, I asked for a speech therapist too, hoping she could teach us some new methods. Unfortunately, Aphasia took his voice, Parkinson’s causes severe tremors, so texting and writing are nearly impossible.
This morning, on my blog, I featured a Tool song that illustrates a schism where communication is concerned. Check it out if you're a Tool fan or just interested.
Say a prayer for us that a solution will present itself, and while you’re at it, say one for me as well. It’s tough to deal with an aging parent, especially one as challenged as my dad. We are praying we can transition into an assisted living facility before his legs give out completely, and I can no longer care for him.
It will be a difficult conversation, as he believes he will be able to return to his home. Sadly, I don’t.
