Update on Dad 9-25-11

Hey, Everybody,

The last two weeks have flown by and it's time for another report on Dad--a short one tonight. My information tonight comes from my sister Martha and from my conversation with Dad tonight.

Martha reported to me that Dad's been changed to a different room, so those of you who visit him, ask someone at the nurse's station where his new room is. Martha also told me that when she and Dave visited Dad and he was so sleepy, it was the night after they'd moved him to his new room, so he may have been extra sleepy because of that.

I had an interesting experience this week--I imagined telling Dad about my first time hosting my grandson's co-op preschool. My daughter, Christine, had found lots of possible activities online, and we decided to put shaving cream on cookie sheets and have the kids try writing letters in the shaving cream. I got everyone seated with a cookie sheet in front of them and a paper towel beside them, and I explained what they were to do and sprayed shaving cream on each cookie sheet. It turned out to be very sticky. As Jeffrey explained it, "My fingers got so big!"--as the shaving cream stuck to them. So they all had a great time playing in the shaving cream, but they didn't really write letters in it, and one paper towel was not nearly enough to clean them up!

I imagined Dad laughing as I told the story--as he would have done in the past. Only today when I was thinking about calling him did I realize I'd just imagined telling him. In my mind we enjoyed the story together so much!

I decided not to tell Dad that story tonight just because it's a bit complicated--but now I wish I had. Instead, I told him that my six-month-old granddaughter started crawling this week. (No reaction.) I said that her parents both have cell phone with cameras, so they were able to whip out their phones and take a video of her first time crawling. "Oh, my!"

I talked a bit more about her crawling without much more response.

Then I told him that Jeffrey and I played ball tonight, and Jeffrey thinks it's hilarious when the ball doesn't bounce to the other person. (No response.) I said that was good because neither of us has very good aim. Dad said, "Well, good for him--and good for you!"

I told Dad that I remembered that Christie was coming for a visit. He hadn't heard who I said and asked me to repeat the name. I did and said, "That will be nice for you, won't it?" Oh, yes."

Then I told him I just wanted to say hi and tell him I love him, and as I started to say that Christine and Michael sent their love, he talked over me, saying, "Well, you know I love you!"

I felt that again I got less response from Dad than in the past but that he did warm up as the conversation went along and that he did show signs of being attentive and aware of at least some of what I was saying. I'm glad it still feels like we're communicating.

Thanks for reading!

Update on Dad 9-12-11

Hello, Everyone,

Sorry I didn't get the update written yesterday, but I had nothing to write! I tried twice to phone Dad, but the phone at the care center just rang and rang, never going to voicemail and never being answered. This morning when I called, they told me they're having problems with their phones and are getting them checked out.

My report today comes from my brother John and from my sister Lucy as well as from my conversation with Dad this morning at the care facility.

John and my older brother, Alan, visited Dad together before Alan went into the Missionary Training Center. Dad had just woken up, and he said he'd gone to school with John. John's not sure that Dad would have been so confused if he'd been awake for longer. (I find it interesting that Dad's mind supplied an explanation of who this person was that he recognized as someone he knew and cared about.)

John and Lucy both told me a little about a visit Martha and Dave recently had with Dad where he was extremely sleepy, falling back to sleep constantly. Martha said, "Would you rather we go now and come back another time?" Dad said, "No, no," but he really couldn't keep himself awake.

Martha also told John and Lucy that Dad's not getting up for breakfast now, so they bring him a breakfast "shake" instead. (Lucy commented on how slowly Dad's declining--it's true and hard to deal with. On the other hand, I just read Joan Didion's book The Year of Magical Thinking about the year following her husband's sudden death in his fifties from a massive heart attack, and I'm grateful we still have Dad with us!)

When I spoke to Dad this morning, I was also aware of that very slow decline but also felt that Dad kind of "warmed up" in terms of being able to talk and interact as our conversation went on.

I told him a story about Jeffrey, and I probably needed to preface it with a reminder that Jeffrey's my grandson and three years old now. Jeffrey and I were doing something together--maybe playing with his wooden train set. Something worked out just right, and Jeffrey asked me why. I said, "It's serendipitous." Then, thinking Jeffrey would mangle the word in some charming way, I said, "Can you say 'serendipitous'?" He said, "What's 'serendipitous'?"--pronouncing it perfectly!

Dad had no response. I thought maybe the phone had gone dead because there was just silence.

I mentioned that I'd found out from my nephew David Sargent that his parents, Martha and Dave, will be in France (where David lives with his family) for his birthday this month. I said, "That will be nice for them, won't it?" and Dad said, "Oh, yes."

I told him that my granddaughter Evelyn is now six months old, so we gave her some solid food. I said she pulled a face and wasn't sure about the food. I chuckled, then Dad chuckled, taking his cue from me. Dad then said, "You sound wonderful!"--one of his stock phrases, but a contribution to the conversation from him.

Then since our conversation felt so short, I told him his dear friend and colleague Elouise Bell was planning to visit him next month. (No response.) "It'll be nice for you to see her, won't it?" I said. He responded, "Oh, yes!"

I told him we'd had flooding in our basement recently. He said "Oh my goodness!"

As I was starting to wrap things up, he said, "Surely, it's very, very good to have someone . . . " and couldn't finish the thought. I finally said, "to have me call?" "Oh, yes."

I said, "Much love to you." He said, "Much love to you!" I said, "Talk to you again"; he said, "Oh, wonderful!" And we hung up.

I'm grateful for Dad's loving, gracious spirit that I can still feel even in our halting conversations!

Thanks for reading.