Hello, Everyone,
When I logged on to begin my blog tonight, I saw how many posts there are on the site--49, so this is the 50th post on my blog about Dad! (Do we need to have a 50% off sale to mark the event?)
I have information about Dad from my brother Alan who visited in early February, a brief report from my brother-in-law Bob who visited Dad tonight, and I spoke to Dad briefly on the phone tonight also.
Here's what Alan wrote--before he left for Utah:
"I spoke to my Dad on the phone last night. My brother-in-law Bob was there visiting and called me so I could talk to him. I think much of what he says to us is a set of stock phrases, but he does respond to you and seems to enjoy having you tell him things. Several family members have commented that he is losing weight and so every time I get to see him I wonder if it will be the last time. Of course, he has surprised all of us and stayed around for much longer than we expected, so he may well continue to do it. I remember my Mother going to England when I was a senior in college knowing that her mother likely wouldn’t live though the year, but my grandmother was much more aware of things at that point in her life. If Dad lives until we go [Alan and his wife are leaving for a mission to Brazil in late August], he is unlikely to make it until we return, but he also is unlikely to remember that I’m off somewhere."
After Alan returned from his trip to Utah, he wrote about visiting Dad while he was in town:
"I got in three visits to see my Dad, the first one on Tuesday . . . , one on Thursday in conjunction with a trip to Orem to see Janice’s Dad, . . . and one yesterday when I drove down and met my sister Martha at the nursing home. He’s in a new room . . . , and while I didn’t see the prior room and can’t comment on the issues there were with it, this setup seemed quite workable. Dad certainly didn’t seem distressed at all and there was enough space for an easy visit for a couple of people. In some ways it actually seems better than where he was before [at the other care facility]. This room doesn’t have a wall to post pictures, but it has a window right behind Dad and it seems a much brighter room because of it."
My brother-in-law Bob, Lucy's husband, visits Dad on Sunday nights after he finishes working at the Springville Art Museum. He phoned me tonight after he left and said that he and Lucy are much happier with the new room he's in and glad that the care facility was able to find a better solution. Bob also mentioned that it's much brighter in the morning because of the window; it's also quieter; there's room for Dad's easy chair and ottoman and there's another chair for visitors.
I also spoke to Dad tonight. When I told him who I was, he said, "Where are you?"--as if it was strange that I wasn't there with him. I told him I was in Pennsylvania--this is something he came back to later in the conversation, so I was pleased that his memory was working that well.
I told him that when my daughter and son-in-law went out for Valentine's Day, my grandson was pretty sad, so I decided we'd do something Dad did for us when we were little--make pancakes that were in the shape of animals--bunnies, cats, etc. When I asked Dad if he remembered making them, he said, "Oh, yes!"
I said the batter wasn't thick enough, so my animals tended to run and not look like they were supposed to, but Jeffrey was imaginative about deciding what the shapes looked like, and he cheered up. I felt like Dad chuckled because he took his cue from me--I was chuckling.
I then told him that someone in our ward who's studying acting is going to be in a production of The Beaux' Strategem. (This play is by the playwright that Dad did his doctoral dissertation on.) He said, "Oh, my"--one of his stock phrases, so I wasn't sure if he was following what I was saying. I told Dad that I'd mentioned to the actor that my father wrote his dissertation on George Farquhar. I also told Dad I thought maybe I needed to warn ward members that Farquhar's plays could be a bit spicy! He chuckled at that too. I think because he was getting the joke--or at least knowing the place to laugh at the punch line!
(This reminds me of a story Dad used to tell about a friend (I think from high school) who was very bad at telling jokes because she would start laughing at the joke and not be intelligible by the time she got to the punch line. So she would hold up her finger when she got to the punch line, and everyone would laugh. Dad still knows when it's time to laugh!)
During our conversation, Dad told me my voice sounded good--another of his gracious stock phrases.
Then Dad said to me, "You do what you have to do, and . . ." He wasn't able to complete his thought, but then he said, "Now where is it you're going?" I told him I was in central Pennsylvania where Christine and Michael are going to school, and I mentioned again that Christine's baby is due soon and said, "So I really am needed here."
He said something like, "Well, okay then." I cried because I felt like we finally were able to have a conversation about my leaving, and that he gave me his blessing. He hasn't been aware enough to understand that we had to put him in a care facility because it became too much for us to care for him at home, and he hasn't been aware that I moved away. I don't know that he'll remember our conversation, but I will, and I feel such love for him and gratitude that he's willing to sacrifice his own comfort for me to do what's best for me--that's my Dad!
Dad and I ended our conversation as always by expressing our love to each other.
I think I said in my last post that my next one may not be right on time--Christine's baby is due on March 5, and if the baby comes close to her due date, I may not be able to post next time, but I'll try to get something up as soon as I can.
Thanks for reading and for caring about Dad.
Alison
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Update on Dad 2-6-11
Greetings, Everybody,
I wasn't able to talk to Dad tonight, but I have a number of reports about him from others that have visited Dad recently--as well as a tribute to Dad by his cousin Bill Craig that he's given me permission to post.
First I'll give you a report from my sister Martha on what they've done at the care facility to improve his situation there:
"[The Art City care facility] moved [Dad] [the day after they spoke about problems with his room] to a different room, where he has much more space, an attached bathroom, and not an around-the-clock TV. The TV in the other room didn't seem to bother him, but it was very hard for his visitors to have a conversation, and the patient watching his huge TV felt invaded when there were several of us there. The man across the room from him now has a small TV, but it is not on all the time, is close to him, and the sound is not loud. There is plenty of space now for several visitors. They tell me that the room is monitored frequently because the others in his room are also fall risks.
"[Martha's daughter]Emily and I were there last Friday at dinner, and the food was so slow coming that he had more interest in going back to bed than in eating. The administrator and the head nurse were both there during the time patients were waiting, and saying they had to find a better solution in their training meeting the next day. It has also seemed bad to me that Dad has been at a table with others who need help eating, but some of them are very vocal about not wanting to eat and have to be coaxed. It just hasn't seemed to be an appetizing situation for one who has little appetite anyway.
"They have worked out a new seating chart and will have Dad at a table right near the entrance to the dining room. He will sit by a woman whose husband is always there at meals, and who has gotten Dad to talk a number of times. He will encourage Dad to eat, and help out if necessary. The table will also be visible from where the nurses are just outside the door, preparing evening meds for the patients. They can see whether he is eating well or not and get him more help if needed."
In addition to this information that Martha sent, she and I talked last night, and she told me that recently she visited Dad at lunch time. With her help, he "ate every bite of his lunch." She said that the new seating arrangement in the dining room seems to be working out well. The husband who is there with his wife says Dad does great at eating now--likely not every bite, but a good amount at meals.
Martha also mentioned that our brother Alan was in town for his granddaughter's baptism, and he visited with Dad, showing him pictures of the family gathering. Martha thought Dad clearly knew who Alan was and enjoyed the visit. I'm sure I'll have more to report from Alan himself. He's very faithful about keeping us informed of all that's going on with him and his family.
I also have a report from my brother John about the new room at the care facility:
"I went to see Dad last night and the new arrangement is definitely better. He still doesn't have a way to have the radio next to his bed (something he was enjoying at Hobble Creek--at least from time to time), so I think it might be worth trying to figure that out. We'd need something to put it on and a way to get power to it--unless there's a plug on the other side of the bed from where I was.
"[John's daughter and son-in-law] Lisa and Court came while I was there (by pre-arrangement) and we had a good visit. (A couple of folding chairs wouldn't be a bad idea.) It was well after dinner when we got there, but Dad was awake (and my going in awakened one of the others in the room). The third guy in the room was moving around on his bed and setting off his "don't try to get up" alarm--which did not seem restful for Dad; not sure if that's something that would be typical or not. But, we had a good visit and Dad said he was warm enough and was comfortable--although he was putting his hands back under the covers right after getting them out to gesture or shake hands."
Based on what Art City has done to improve Dad's situation, Martha tells me that they've dropped plans to move Dad to another facility.
My sister Lucy's husband, Bob, was chatting with my daughter online recently and sent this report about Dad:
"Papa Daddy was looking pretty good this evening - he ate all his dinner - enjoyed visiting with me - talked with [our brother] Alan on my phone - seems to be getting more sleep in his new room - although he identified the photograph of your Grandmother (Ruth Craig) as his mother to the CNA who was helping him while I was there tonight - he laughed at the photo of him in his office at BYU - after all of that he called me by name and told me to be careful on my way home."
The photo Bob says that Dad laughed at is the picture from Elouise Bell that I put up on the blog last time. Thank you, Elouise! I'm so pleased Bob thought to show it to him--I don't know that I would have.
I recently received this tribute to Dad from a cousin, Bill Craig, who Dad reconnected with in the last ten years:
"We Craigs should be very proud of Marshall's achievements . . . as far as I know he is the only one who has received a Ph.D. Considering his humble beginning, that is a very significant accomplishment. One of my regrets is that I was never around Marshall very much. I do remember that he and Ruth came by our house when he was on leave from the Navy during WW II, and I saw him, just to speak to him, at Laurie's [Dad's brother's] burial out on Champagnolle Road near El Dorado. His military service, his long tenure at BYU and his dedication to his family make him a very special person in my eyes."
Bill ends by mentioning the "good support he has from his family."
Although I know Dad would make some self-deprecating joke about Bill's praise, Bill's right. I forget until I read Bill's tribute just what humble beginnings Dad came from and what wonderful things he's done in his life.
For some reason, I'm feeling pretty emotional about Dad today, missing him and feeling so much love for him.
As always, we appreciate all of you who also love Dad and care about him. Thanks for those who let me know you're reading.
I plan on reporting in again in two weeks, but my daughter is due on March 5, so for the next month or so, I may not be able to report right on schedule depending on when my granddaughter decides to arrive.
Love to all,
Alison
I wasn't able to talk to Dad tonight, but I have a number of reports about him from others that have visited Dad recently--as well as a tribute to Dad by his cousin Bill Craig that he's given me permission to post.
First I'll give you a report from my sister Martha on what they've done at the care facility to improve his situation there:
"[The Art City care facility] moved [Dad] [the day after they spoke about problems with his room] to a different room, where he has much more space, an attached bathroom, and not an around-the-clock TV. The TV in the other room didn't seem to bother him, but it was very hard for his visitors to have a conversation, and the patient watching his huge TV felt invaded when there were several of us there. The man across the room from him now has a small TV, but it is not on all the time, is close to him, and the sound is not loud. There is plenty of space now for several visitors. They tell me that the room is monitored frequently because the others in his room are also fall risks.
"[Martha's daughter]Emily and I were there last Friday at dinner, and the food was so slow coming that he had more interest in going back to bed than in eating. The administrator and the head nurse were both there during the time patients were waiting, and saying they had to find a better solution in their training meeting the next day. It has also seemed bad to me that Dad has been at a table with others who need help eating, but some of them are very vocal about not wanting to eat and have to be coaxed. It just hasn't seemed to be an appetizing situation for one who has little appetite anyway.
"They have worked out a new seating chart and will have Dad at a table right near the entrance to the dining room. He will sit by a woman whose husband is always there at meals, and who has gotten Dad to talk a number of times. He will encourage Dad to eat, and help out if necessary. The table will also be visible from where the nurses are just outside the door, preparing evening meds for the patients. They can see whether he is eating well or not and get him more help if needed."
In addition to this information that Martha sent, she and I talked last night, and she told me that recently she visited Dad at lunch time. With her help, he "ate every bite of his lunch." She said that the new seating arrangement in the dining room seems to be working out well. The husband who is there with his wife says Dad does great at eating now--likely not every bite, but a good amount at meals.
Martha also mentioned that our brother Alan was in town for his granddaughter's baptism, and he visited with Dad, showing him pictures of the family gathering. Martha thought Dad clearly knew who Alan was and enjoyed the visit. I'm sure I'll have more to report from Alan himself. He's very faithful about keeping us informed of all that's going on with him and his family.
I also have a report from my brother John about the new room at the care facility:
"I went to see Dad last night and the new arrangement is definitely better. He still doesn't have a way to have the radio next to his bed (something he was enjoying at Hobble Creek--at least from time to time), so I think it might be worth trying to figure that out. We'd need something to put it on and a way to get power to it--unless there's a plug on the other side of the bed from where I was.
"[John's daughter and son-in-law] Lisa and Court came while I was there (by pre-arrangement) and we had a good visit. (A couple of folding chairs wouldn't be a bad idea.) It was well after dinner when we got there, but Dad was awake (and my going in awakened one of the others in the room). The third guy in the room was moving around on his bed and setting off his "don't try to get up" alarm--which did not seem restful for Dad; not sure if that's something that would be typical or not. But, we had a good visit and Dad said he was warm enough and was comfortable--although he was putting his hands back under the covers right after getting them out to gesture or shake hands."
Based on what Art City has done to improve Dad's situation, Martha tells me that they've dropped plans to move Dad to another facility.
My sister Lucy's husband, Bob, was chatting with my daughter online recently and sent this report about Dad:
"Papa Daddy was looking pretty good this evening - he ate all his dinner - enjoyed visiting with me - talked with [our brother] Alan on my phone - seems to be getting more sleep in his new room - although he identified the photograph of your Grandmother (Ruth Craig) as his mother to the CNA who was helping him while I was there tonight - he laughed at the photo of him in his office at BYU - after all of that he called me by name and told me to be careful on my way home."
The photo Bob says that Dad laughed at is the picture from Elouise Bell that I put up on the blog last time. Thank you, Elouise! I'm so pleased Bob thought to show it to him--I don't know that I would have.
I recently received this tribute to Dad from a cousin, Bill Craig, who Dad reconnected with in the last ten years:
"We Craigs should be very proud of Marshall's achievements . . . as far as I know he is the only one who has received a Ph.D. Considering his humble beginning, that is a very significant accomplishment. One of my regrets is that I was never around Marshall very much. I do remember that he and Ruth came by our house when he was on leave from the Navy during WW II, and I saw him, just to speak to him, at Laurie's [Dad's brother's] burial out on Champagnolle Road near El Dorado. His military service, his long tenure at BYU and his dedication to his family make him a very special person in my eyes."
Bill ends by mentioning the "good support he has from his family."
Although I know Dad would make some self-deprecating joke about Bill's praise, Bill's right. I forget until I read Bill's tribute just what humble beginnings Dad came from and what wonderful things he's done in his life.
For some reason, I'm feeling pretty emotional about Dad today, missing him and feeling so much love for him.
As always, we appreciate all of you who also love Dad and care about him. Thanks for those who let me know you're reading.
I plan on reporting in again in two weeks, but my daughter is due on March 5, so for the next month or so, I may not be able to report right on schedule depending on when my granddaughter decides to arrive.
Love to all,
Alison
Sunday, January 23, 2011
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.
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."
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.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
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!
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!
Sunday, December 26, 2010
My vist with Dad 12-26-10
Hello, Everyone,
I hope you all had a good Christmas.
Even though I was in Utah from Dec. 17 through Dec. 23, I was sick and only able to visit Dad once, so I have a short report again based on that one visit.
My daughter, Christine, my son-in-law, Michael, and I visited Dad on Dec. 18. He was asleep when we came in, which is apparently normal for Dad these days. We walked over to his bed; I touched him on the shoulder and said, “Hi, Dad, it’s Alison.” Without opening his eyes, he said, “Oh, I recognized your voice.” I was so pleased because on the phone it’s hard to tell if he knows who I am.
Dad didn’t open his eyes, so I asked him to open them, and he did.
We told Dad a little about John’s daughter Lisa’s wedding that morning at the Draper temple. It was a cold, windy, rainy day, and John thinks the porticos at the temple simply act as wind tunnels. Dad said, “Oh my!”
We pointed out Christine’s pregnant belly and told Dad that Christine’s pregnant and due in March—something we’ve told him before but that he doesn’t remember. He said, “Oh, how wonderful.”
Michael asked him how he liked the new place he’s in. He didn’t respond. I told Michael I didn’t think Dad knew he was in a new place.
Christine got more of a response from Dad when she told him that their son, Jeffrey, likes to talk about where people were born: he and Oma were born in Provo; Momma was born in California; Daddy and PapaDaddy were born in Louisiana. Dad said, “Where?” Michael told him “New Orleans,” and Dad said, “Oh, uh-huh.” I then chimed in to tell Dad about something I heard on my trip to Utah—I heard someone say, “Nahw Lens.” He chuckled at that. (Dad used to say that he was a teenager before he realized that “Nahw Lens” (where his grandpa could get you anything you wanted) was the same place as New Orleans that he studied about in school!)
Dad had to get up and go to the bathroom, and while the aide was transferring him to a wheelchair, Dad’s pajama bottoms almost fell off him—he’s losing weight.
While I was there, I saw a sheet for the staff to sign up to be a secret Santa for the residents. I was pleased to see that Wendi Mortensen, my friend’s niece who works there, had signed up to be Dad’s secret Santa. It’s good to know she looks in on him daily and loves him too!
She sent another fun picture of Dad—with Santa—in what Mom called Dad’s “teaching pose”—one finger raised as he made a point. (I’ll post it below.)
I’ll visit Dad this next week when I’m again in Utah, and I’ll have a chance to pump the family about how he’s doing. Martha tells me Elaine has a fun story about Dad responding to a joke. I’ll write about all of that in two weeks.
Until then, have a happy New Year and thanks for reading!
I hope you all had a good Christmas.
Even though I was in Utah from Dec. 17 through Dec. 23, I was sick and only able to visit Dad once, so I have a short report again based on that one visit.
My daughter, Christine, my son-in-law, Michael, and I visited Dad on Dec. 18. He was asleep when we came in, which is apparently normal for Dad these days. We walked over to his bed; I touched him on the shoulder and said, “Hi, Dad, it’s Alison.” Without opening his eyes, he said, “Oh, I recognized your voice.” I was so pleased because on the phone it’s hard to tell if he knows who I am.
Dad didn’t open his eyes, so I asked him to open them, and he did.
We told Dad a little about John’s daughter Lisa’s wedding that morning at the Draper temple. It was a cold, windy, rainy day, and John thinks the porticos at the temple simply act as wind tunnels. Dad said, “Oh my!”
We pointed out Christine’s pregnant belly and told Dad that Christine’s pregnant and due in March—something we’ve told him before but that he doesn’t remember. He said, “Oh, how wonderful.”
Michael asked him how he liked the new place he’s in. He didn’t respond. I told Michael I didn’t think Dad knew he was in a new place.
Christine got more of a response from Dad when she told him that their son, Jeffrey, likes to talk about where people were born: he and Oma were born in Provo; Momma was born in California; Daddy and PapaDaddy were born in Louisiana. Dad said, “Where?” Michael told him “New Orleans,” and Dad said, “Oh, uh-huh.” I then chimed in to tell Dad about something I heard on my trip to Utah—I heard someone say, “Nahw Lens.” He chuckled at that. (Dad used to say that he was a teenager before he realized that “Nahw Lens” (where his grandpa could get you anything you wanted) was the same place as New Orleans that he studied about in school!)
Dad had to get up and go to the bathroom, and while the aide was transferring him to a wheelchair, Dad’s pajama bottoms almost fell off him—he’s losing weight.
While I was there, I saw a sheet for the staff to sign up to be a secret Santa for the residents. I was pleased to see that Wendi Mortensen, my friend’s niece who works there, had signed up to be Dad’s secret Santa. It’s good to know she looks in on him daily and loves him too!
She sent another fun picture of Dad—with Santa—in what Mom called Dad’s “teaching pose”—one finger raised as he made a point. (I’ll post it below.)
I’ll visit Dad this next week when I’m again in Utah, and I’ll have a chance to pump the family about how he’s doing. Martha tells me Elaine has a fun story about Dad responding to a joke. I’ll write about all of that in two weeks.
Until then, have a happy New Year and thanks for reading!
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Brief report on Dad 12-12-10
Hello, Everyone,
My report today is just from my brief conversation with Dad this evening.
Dad sounded good, though his voice was a bit slurred as we began speaking, but it sounded better very quickly. I told Dad who I was and asked how he was doing, and then there was a little pause. Dad said, "What can I do for you?"--more of a response than I expected, and one that was just what he might have said 10 years ago in a similar situation.
I told Dad that our dear friends in England send their love to him--Sally and her parents Min and Reg Oram. He said, "Oh, isn't that wonderful!" I told him that I write about him and post it on the internet--no response, but that's not surprising: even before he began having problems with dementia, the internet was a great mystery to him. I explained that the Orams read what I write and know what's going on with him. He responded, "Oh, how nice."
I told him that I'd be coming to Utah next week and would be able to see him, and he said, "Isn't that wonderful!" He gave a similar response to news that Christine will try to see him for the part of the day she'll be in Utah.
He chuckled at my story about Jeffrey who is talking more clearly now and who threw a doughnut-shaped toy behind the neighbors' TV the other day. When our friends walked through the door, Jeffrey said, "Doughnut behind TV." The husband understood him perfectly (which really impressed Christine that he could figure out that sentence with no context!).
I told Dad I was looking forward to seeing him next week when I'll be in Utah, and he said he's looking forward to seeing me. I told him I love him and that Christine and Michael send their love as well. He told me that he loves me too. It's hard to know how much he understands, but it's clear he still knows how to be gracious and loving.
I'll have more to report after visiting Dad next week at the new care facility he's in now. I'll be traveling for the next three weeks, but I hope to keep to my schedule and write again about Dad on Dec. 26th.
Merry Christmas, everyone, and (as always) thanks for reading!
My report today is just from my brief conversation with Dad this evening.
Dad sounded good, though his voice was a bit slurred as we began speaking, but it sounded better very quickly. I told Dad who I was and asked how he was doing, and then there was a little pause. Dad said, "What can I do for you?"--more of a response than I expected, and one that was just what he might have said 10 years ago in a similar situation.
I told Dad that our dear friends in England send their love to him--Sally and her parents Min and Reg Oram. He said, "Oh, isn't that wonderful!" I told him that I write about him and post it on the internet--no response, but that's not surprising: even before he began having problems with dementia, the internet was a great mystery to him. I explained that the Orams read what I write and know what's going on with him. He responded, "Oh, how nice."
I told him that I'd be coming to Utah next week and would be able to see him, and he said, "Isn't that wonderful!" He gave a similar response to news that Christine will try to see him for the part of the day she'll be in Utah.
He chuckled at my story about Jeffrey who is talking more clearly now and who threw a doughnut-shaped toy behind the neighbors' TV the other day. When our friends walked through the door, Jeffrey said, "Doughnut behind TV." The husband understood him perfectly (which really impressed Christine that he could figure out that sentence with no context!).
I told Dad I was looking forward to seeing him next week when I'll be in Utah, and he said he's looking forward to seeing me. I told him I love him and that Christine and Michael send their love as well. He told me that he loves me too. It's hard to know how much he understands, but it's clear he still knows how to be gracious and loving.
I'll have more to report after visiting Dad next week at the new care facility he's in now. I'll be traveling for the next three weeks, but I hope to keep to my schedule and write again about Dad on Dec. 26th.
Merry Christmas, everyone, and (as always) thanks for reading!
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Dad's Move 11-28-10
Hello to you all!
This week my big news about Dad is his move to a new care facility.
Here's the address:
Art City Nursing & Rehab
321 E. 800 S.
Springville, UT 84663
My news about his move comes from my brother John.
He was moved to this facility a week ago Thurs. My sister Martha was with him while they moved him out of the old facility and into the new one. Dad took the move very calmly and seemed unfazed by it--Martha was exhausted afterwards, having spent five hours with Dad during the move. The staff at the new facility intentionally put Dad in a room close to the nursing station because of his tendency to try to get up without assistance.
As far as John knows, this facility doesn't have visiting hours either--it's just come when you like. John noted that the staff didn't seem bothered that the family got there just as dinner was ending on Thursday.
Some of the staff members are the same--they came from the other facility to this one also; Johns says that those they interacted with seemed very nice.
For any of you who want to visit, John says there's parking on west side of building.
John also reported that they visited Dad on Thursday, Thanksgiving Day--John, his wife, Elaine, daughters Marie and Lisa, and Court--Lisa's fiance. My sister Martha and her husband, Dave, and their "local crew." They sang Christmas songs for Dad, and he joined in the singing several times, obviously enjoying it very much. (Singing Christmas carols on Thanksgiving Day is a long-standing Craig tradition.)
Now my own news of Dad:
I phoned Dad's new facility today and was able to talk to him for a few minutes.
Dad's speech today was somewhat slurred. We used to worry about that quite a bit, but it's something that seems to come and go and doesn't seem to indicate anything being seriously wrong.
When I asked Dad how he liked his new place, he said, "New place?" I guess it's good he's not aware because it means he won't have to go through much of an adjustment.
I told him that we'd gotten together in Pittsburgh with my sister Christie and her husband, Duane, along with my brother Alan and his wife, Janice, my niece Britta (Lucy's daughter) from Harrisburg and her husband and two girls, Christie's daughter Ruth and her husband and their daughter, and Christie's son Jonathan. His response was something like, "Oh, my!"
I told him I was coming to Utah to go to Lisa's wedding in December. I had to tell him she's John's daughter for him to understand who I was talking about. Again an "Oh my!" (But both times a quite expressive "Oh my"!)
I told Dad I made whole wheat wafers with my grandson, Jeffrey, today. Dad said, "Oh," and clicked his tongue. I was hoping he'd recognize the name of the wafer, an old family favorite, but it didn't sound like he did.
I told him that I've changed the recipe to make it healthy and less sweet, so it tasted like soft hardtack--he chuckled. But I commented that Jeffrey and I had fun cutting out shapes. He said something like, "Well, that sounds fun."
I ended the conversation by saying I wanted to let him know I was thinking of him, and he said, "I think of you every day." Whether he does or not, he still certainly knows how to be gracious and loving to whoever he's speaking to!
I appreciate hearing from those who read the blog, and I appreciate your love and concern for Dad.
We hope those of you in the area will pop in on Dad at his new address, tell him a story or two, and sign the visitors' book.
Happy Holidays, everyone!
This week my big news about Dad is his move to a new care facility.
Here's the address:
Art City Nursing & Rehab
321 E. 800 S.
Springville, UT 84663
My news about his move comes from my brother John.
He was moved to this facility a week ago Thurs. My sister Martha was with him while they moved him out of the old facility and into the new one. Dad took the move very calmly and seemed unfazed by it--Martha was exhausted afterwards, having spent five hours with Dad during the move. The staff at the new facility intentionally put Dad in a room close to the nursing station because of his tendency to try to get up without assistance.
As far as John knows, this facility doesn't have visiting hours either--it's just come when you like. John noted that the staff didn't seem bothered that the family got there just as dinner was ending on Thursday.
Some of the staff members are the same--they came from the other facility to this one also; Johns says that those they interacted with seemed very nice.
For any of you who want to visit, John says there's parking on west side of building.
John also reported that they visited Dad on Thursday, Thanksgiving Day--John, his wife, Elaine, daughters Marie and Lisa, and Court--Lisa's fiance. My sister Martha and her husband, Dave, and their "local crew." They sang Christmas songs for Dad, and he joined in the singing several times, obviously enjoying it very much. (Singing Christmas carols on Thanksgiving Day is a long-standing Craig tradition.)
Now my own news of Dad:
I phoned Dad's new facility today and was able to talk to him for a few minutes.
Dad's speech today was somewhat slurred. We used to worry about that quite a bit, but it's something that seems to come and go and doesn't seem to indicate anything being seriously wrong.
When I asked Dad how he liked his new place, he said, "New place?" I guess it's good he's not aware because it means he won't have to go through much of an adjustment.
I told him that we'd gotten together in Pittsburgh with my sister Christie and her husband, Duane, along with my brother Alan and his wife, Janice, my niece Britta (Lucy's daughter) from Harrisburg and her husband and two girls, Christie's daughter Ruth and her husband and their daughter, and Christie's son Jonathan. His response was something like, "Oh, my!"
I told him I was coming to Utah to go to Lisa's wedding in December. I had to tell him she's John's daughter for him to understand who I was talking about. Again an "Oh my!" (But both times a quite expressive "Oh my"!)
I told Dad I made whole wheat wafers with my grandson, Jeffrey, today. Dad said, "Oh," and clicked his tongue. I was hoping he'd recognize the name of the wafer, an old family favorite, but it didn't sound like he did.
I told him that I've changed the recipe to make it healthy and less sweet, so it tasted like soft hardtack--he chuckled. But I commented that Jeffrey and I had fun cutting out shapes. He said something like, "Well, that sounds fun."
I ended the conversation by saying I wanted to let him know I was thinking of him, and he said, "I think of you every day." Whether he does or not, he still certainly knows how to be gracious and loving to whoever he's speaking to!
I appreciate hearing from those who read the blog, and I appreciate your love and concern for Dad.
We hope those of you in the area will pop in on Dad at his new address, tell him a story or two, and sign the visitors' book.
Happy Holidays, everyone!
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