goodbye, dad

I am out at my parents’ house in California this week, working through some tough times again. My father’s battle with Alzheimer’s came to an end, and as usual, Alzheimer’s won. Memorial services for my dad will be tomorrow. I am so thankful that I arrived in time to see my dad one last time, and to tell him stories about his grandson and tell him how much I love him. He was only awake for about half an hour, and he couldn’t talk at all, even though he had so much to say. He clapped his hands to show me he was happy to see me and the rest of the family. Then, he fell asleep, and his embattled brain continued turning off the light switches and shutting the blinds until he passed away last Saturday night.

I am glad that Dad is relieved from the misery he was feeling, especially in the two weeks before his death, when he was tormented by rage. I love my Dad, and I will miss him, and so it is sad, but in a tempered way. I am very glad that I got to see him and connect one last time, and I am also glad to spend time with my family, going through old photos and talking about our memories.

There have been a million errands to run, and I am happy to help with that. The rest of the time, I sit with my mom watching daytime television louder than a rock concert in a room heated to a toasy 92°F. Some friends have visited and others have called, and I have been sneaking some computer time here and there to check the blogs, using wifi poached from a neighbor. Imagine my surprise when my article comes up on the Contexts Discoveries blog! And then, Fabio calls me out over on orgtheory. I am doubly honored, and I am happy to use this precious quiet moment while Mom reads the National Enquirer to write this little note. It is especially uplifting to know that I have so many friends just one poached wifi signal away.

16 thoughts on “goodbye, dad”

  1. You and your family are in my thoughts, Tina. I am so sorry for your loss, yet I am thankful that you were able to be there, so see your father and to hear his clap, and to comfort your mother by joining her in what is bringing her comfort.


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