Update on Dad 1-23-11

Hello Everyone,

This week's report comes from a conversation with my sister Christie who's been in Utah recently, and my conversation with Dad tonight. I also have a digital copy of Elouise Bell's favorite photo of Dad, and it made me think of a creative writing assignment I wrote when I was a freshman in Elouise's class!

Christie told me that she and Martha and Lucy visited a care facility in Spanish Fork that they liked and where they may move Dad, but the current facility has asked for time to fix the problems there. I think I've mentioned before that Dad's in a room with two other people, and the one person actually takes up about two-thirds of the room, and he watches TV incessantly. There isn't room to sit and visit with Dad, and there's been a concern that Dad isn't getting enough help with meals there. Apparently the current facility is going to move Dad into another room. (I should have thought to ask if they've already moved him when I called.) The new room will also have three people, but it should be quieter. I'm assuming there will be more room for people to visit with Dad, but I can't remember if Christie said anything about that or not. I'll keep you posted about where Dad is, but if you go to visit Dad and he's not in his usual room, ask where they've moved him.

I spoke to Dad tonight for a few minutes. I told him how cold it's been here and how many layers I'd put on yesterday before going outside--tights, long johns, jeans, two pair of wool socks, two shirts, and hoodie, a jacket with a hood and scarf, and heavy mittens. I didn't get much reaction to that--maybe an "Oh my."

I did get a chuckle from Dad when I told him about the new book I got Jeffrey. It's an ABC book, and some of the letters have a picture hidden behind a flap. Jeffrey immediately learned the names of all the animals under the flaps. For "I," it's iguana, which he pronounces "wee-guana." He'd open the flap, we'd talk about the picture, and then he'd close it and say, "Where's the wee-guana?" I'd say, "I don't know--where is the iguana?" Then Jeffrey would open the flap and say, "There's the wee-guana!" Then he'd close the flap and ask again--maybe ten times in a row--such a fun game!

Dad told me several times that my voice sounded good. When I told him that Christine, Michael, and Jeffrey sent their love, he said, "Oh, that's good." We sent each other our love and said goodbye.

Now for the picture of Dad. Elouise Bell, Dad's colleague in the English Department and dear friend, sent a copy of this picture to my brother Alan who digitized it and "cleaned it up." This is Elouise's favorite picture of Dad, and I can see why. Alan says, "Elouise said [the picture] was 50 years old, but based on Dad’s hairline and the amount of gray, I’d say that it isn’t that old.  More likely in the 25 to 30 range.  I have a picture of Dad from the airport when I left on my mission that’s not quite 44 years ago, and he is clearly younger."

This picture makes me think of how much Dad loved teaching and his colleagues in the English Department. It also reminds me of an assignment I wrote for Elouise's creative writing class: write a description of a place or a thing that reveals something about the owner.

I was typing up my assignment, and Dad walked by and looked over my shoulder. I said, "Don't look! Don't look!" and tried to hide what I'd written. A bit later he came back and said, "You're describing my desk, aren't you?" His desk looks amazingly clean in this photo; when he was department chair, it was much messier. I remember describing an old copy of a campus newspaper that was hanging off the desk, just the corner held down by the piles of papers on top of it. I told Christine about the assignment and said I wasn't sure that my description actually revealed anything about Dad, but it was fun to write, and Dad (in typical fashion) wasn't disturbed that I was writing about his messy desk.

Well, that's all for this entry. Thanks for reading, everyone, and thanks for letting me know you're reading.

Another visit with Dad 1-9-11

Hello, Everybody,

Tonight my report comes from another visit I had with Dad while I was in Utah and from a report from my niece Ruth Seppi Hamilton who also visited Dad while she was in Utah recently.

I visited Dad again before leaving Utah--I'd hoped to visit more, but I was sick a lot of the time I was there, so I only managed one other visit.

I went with my sister Christie, and we found Dad in the dining room when we got there, waiting for lunch to be served. I walked up behind him on one side and said, "Hi, Dad," without identifying myself. Dad looked at me and seemed a bit puzzled. Christie walked up on the other side and said, "Hi, Dad, it's Christie, and I'm here with Alison." At that point, Dad clearly recognized both of us, saying something like, "It's wonderful to see you both!"

We chatted with Dad for a bit--each of us told him a story or two, and then he had to go to the bathroom. When he came back to the table, he told Christie that he'd heard her talking and recognized her voice--he was so pleased! (I haven't really thought before about what it must be like to not recognize the people around you.) A bit later, Dad said to us, "Having you both here is . . ." and then couldn't find the words to express himself. He gave us two thumbs up instead, and Christie said, "You're really glad we're both here," and Dad said, "Yes."

After we each talked directly to Dad for a little while, Christie and I began talking to each other, including Dad with looks and comments. From then on, Dad seemed to relax and enjoy us being there without feeling he had to add much to the conversation.

He ate very little of his meal, so I began giving him bites of food. He ate all of his dessert but only about a quarter of the rest of his meal. I kept feeding him bites until he was full. Both Christie and I thought he wouldn't have eaten much at all if we hadn't been there to feed him.

I'm actually of two minds about feeding him. My friend Barbara, the home health and hospice nurse, has explained to me that loss of appetite is a painless and natural part of the dying process. She doesn't recommend insisting on feeding elderly people who lose their appetites because that simply prolongs the dying process. I see her point, and at the same time, I'm so used to feeding Dad that I did it without thinking.

After Dad was done eating, we took him back to his room. An aide helped me get Dad into bed, so for maybe a minute or so, he was facing away from us. When he was facing us again, he looked startled and said, "Oh my!" I think that during that minute when he wasn't facing us, he'd forgotten we were there.

I cried when we said goodbye, sure that I wouldn't be able to see him again while I was in Utah, and uncertain whether I'd see him again in this life. I also cried because even while he remains our loving father, he's slipping further away from us. It's painful to be confronted by that, and it's more apparent now that I see him only every few months. 

Christie's daughter Ruth also visited Dad while she was in Utah. She told me that it was hard for her to see that Dad's less able to participate in a conversation. Ruth said she's used to having to have stories ready to tell, but he was less responsive to the stories. She didn't think Dad knew who she was, though he clearly knew Christie who came with her. Ruth also took her fourteen-month-old daughter when she visited, and Ruth said Dad and Eliana had a fun time together. Christie would "fly" Eliana over by Dad, and he'd point his finger at her and go "psst, psst, psst," and they'd laugh together. (If you've seen my dad around babies in the last 40 years or so, you can probably picture the two of them having a grand time together.) Ruth said that she didn't think Dad or Eliana would remember the visit, but it was important to Ruth for them to meet.

Since Dad had so many visitors over Christmas, some of the problems with his room at the new facility stood out more clearly. It's hard to visit him there because his part of the room is so small that there really isn't room for visitors especially when more than one person is visiting. Also, his roommate watches TV all day long, making it hard to carry on a conversation. My sister Martha is  going to look into a facility in Payson that's near my sister Lucy and her husband, Bob. I'll keep you posted on whether we decide to move Dad again.

Thanks to all of you who care about Dad, and may you all have a happy new year!