Spillin' the Tea at 503

Some moments stay with you – not because they’re loud or dramatic, but because they’re quiet and they break your heart in the gentlest way.

A few days ago, the morning started like many others – with coffee, breakfast, conversation and a specific, persistent battle that comes with Dad’s dementia – nose picking. Dad was quick to anger over something simple, the type of anger we all witnessed growing up and has been greatly magnified these last few years. It started with Mom noting (sarcastically) his excessive use of tissues on his nose and said “Bill, you’re using a lot of tissues; are you eating them?” After a few moments of silence, he started to take off his shirt. Once the shirt was off, he began using it to wipe his nose, angrily shouting, “Here! How’s this? I’ll just use my shirt to wipe my nose!” What should’ve been nothing, turned into his frustration, anger and his raised voice, peppered with some swearing. Mom and I watched quietly – not engaging with his anger – as he pushed away from the table and angrily shuffled off to the bathroom. A heavy silence followed.

After things calmed down, I reminded Mom that this isn’t him, this is the disease. Mom looked at me and said quietly, “I haven’t seen my husband in a long time.”

I don’t think I’ll ever forget those words.

She wasn’t being dramatic. She was just telling the truth – a truth that sits heavy in the air around here sometimes. She’s not talking about the man sitting in the chair next to her now – she’s talking about the man who once painted his car with a paintbrush to impress her, the man she fell in love with, the one who used to hold her hand or tell corny Dad jokes.

Now she sees a man who gets angry at gentle corrections, who gets frustrated with his own reality, forgets why he’s frustrated, swears at her and who more and more often, demands he be returned to Scranton to live out the rest of his life. And, someone who looks at her like she’s someone else. It’s hard – harder than I can explain.

But she still loves him. She still makes his coffee, lays out his clothes for him, cleans up after him, prepares meals for him and and says goodnight every evening with a kiss. Her love has simply changed uniforms — from the easy laughter of their younger days to the quiet endurance of now.

I didn’t have the right words that morning. I just sat with her and said softly, “He’s still here, Mom. Just a little harder to find sometimes.”

Good days & bad days – that’s what we’ve had lately. Good days have included about five consecutive days where Dad woke up in a good mood, enjoyed his coffee and breakfast, enjoyed the visiting nurses who showered him and fawned over him, napped well and ate well. Those days included a trip to Harris Teeters for groceries, Anne’s “Famous Chicken Pot Pie, a trip to Ryan’s for lunch and relaxing evenings. Check out Dad’s innovative way to eat his soup at Ryan’s when the goofy spoon they give you won’t suffice …

Bad Days consisted of extreme anger, swearing and stomping out of the room. And that was us!!! Seriously, Dad had some bad days, too. About three consecutive bad days, as a matter of fact. He got so angry with nose-picking corrections he left the kitchen table and went to sit in a living room chair. We figured he’d fall asleep and give his brain a chance to “reset”; however, that didn’t work this time. He reemerged angry and skipped dinner, going to bed without eating. He skipped lunch the next day when anger got the best of him once again. But, we’re seeing signs that he’s starting to come out of it …

Last week, on yet another beautiful day at the “Beaufort Bayou Bungalow”, we had an opportunity to go through some boxes in the garage that we moved from Scranton to Beaufort back in January. Most of these boxes contained pictures of friends, families and various trips the folks had taken. While a few others contained significant and heartfelt mementos Mom and Dad had kept over the years. Trish led the effort – of course!

We all enjoyed reliving some of the moments captured in the photos and spent a good amount of time trying to guess who some of the people were in the pictures! There were also some very moving moments.

And then there was this moment: Trish dug out a gift that Dad had given Mom some years ago; a light, wooden hanging memento that hung in the dining room at the house in Scranton. Mom saw it and immediately said, “Bill, you gave this to me years ago!”

Dad: “What does it say?”

Mom: “It says: ‘God gave me you’

Dad: “Yeah, but he wouldn’t take you back”

He was very pleased with himself!

I can’t think of a better picture to end today’s entry. These are the good times we embrace …