Driving With My Dad

When I automatically assented to take care of my Dad this week in the absence of my dear sister, I had no clue what I was in for, no clue. I have or so I thought forgotten all the psychic wounds between my Father and I after all I am an adult and a child can often misconstrue things in their own egocentric world. However, I discovered that two of my character defects of impatience and intolerance would wage a pitched battle with me and in some of the skirmishes I was vanquished. 

My Dad, in advancing stages of Dementia is not the Father I knew but when he is still alive on earth it’s challenging to remember that he is not responsible for anything he says or does.  And for some reason only known to God he remains in the waking state. Maybe one reason might be is for his son to learn lessons about himself that he still needs to.  I can only wish that he is oblivious to his own pain and cannot tell the hurt that my sisters and family feel as we watch him disintegrate before our very eyes.  

My Mom passed more than 12 ½ years ago and I know that she is watching over him and sending me messages through the medium of the universe that I am finally starting to listen to. I have begun to filter out my own selfish ways that I am being inconvenienced by his short-term memory that appears to be less than minute. It’s like pouring water into a glass with a hole in it and anyone who lives with a loved one with this condition knows what I am talking about.  

 I made a video of him and I driving this past week and when I watched it I laughed out loud and thought it was funny but I also knew that this time might be the last time.  Driving with my Dad a moment in time I will treasure all the days of my life.  

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