Connections

My father adored his family; over and over and over again, he remarked at how very blessed he was with his wonderful family. All through our lives, he created connections, each and every chance he could.

So, as I wandered through April's photos, searching for a photo-heart connection, this one simply grabbed at my heart, no questions, no hesitation. This one was it.

A great photo? No. Lighting, composition, etc. all need something. Dad looks positively disheveled, unkept in so many ways.

But, this precious hour and a half visit makes me smile, because for the first time in over a year, I saw and experienced the dad I knew  - the dad with a twinkle in his eyes, the dad whose sole mission was to make you laugh. A lost connection was  back.

You see, my dad has dementia, has had it for some time now. A stroke in March 2011 accelerated the dementia, and most visits, he has no idea who I might be; some days, he really doesn't even know I'm there. His words are incoherent, and he rarely makes any sort of sense.

On this Saturday, as we entered the room, his eyes lit up, he smiled, and called us each by name. Those few seconds alone made a 3 and a half hour drive worth it. We've all taken our parents for granted, never imagining that it would ever be our mom or dad felled by dementia, that it would be our mom or dad who wouldn't know us. After all, how could that ever be, when we were the light and center of their world for so long?

And, even when our brain tells us that this is happening, our hearts refuse to acknowledge it.

For whatever reason, dad was in fine form. He teased us, laughed, and cracked jokes until we were bent over double and wiping tears from our eyes. As the aides strolled by, he looked at them and announced that he could do nothing with us as we were all drunk.

For an hour and a half, there was magic. My dad knew me. I've missed that so much, I can't even begin to describe it.

I don't know if I'll be this blessed again; he may know me he next time, or he may never know me again. But this day? This day was a gift.

Comments

[Bev]

What a lovely post! It is so difficult to see our parents diminished by stroke or dementia. This is not who they are. I pray there will be more visits like this one.

[Sandra]

What a touching post on connections and what a wonderful memory to hold on to with that special visit to your dad that day when he knew you all. Magic indeed! Something to treasure forever.

[Ginny]

I had a moment like this with my mother who had Alzheimer's. It was a moment that I will never forget. I am so glad that you were able to share this time with your dad. This is a wonderful picture and piece to share with all of us.

[Els]

Thanks for sharing this wonderful story, and I think this photo is magic too, just because its one of your dad.

[Kim Mailhot]

Oh, Paula, I am so very glad you received this gift ! How wonderful for your heart and soul. Whatever the future has in store for you and your dad, you can think back to that day, that unexpected treasure, where you had him fully present, closee to you. A gift, a beautiful gift !
Love and light to you, my Friend !

[Kim Stevens]

I love your photo, I see so much emotion....what a wonderful connection to the photo and to your father. And you are so right, we never know when it will be the last time anyone will be here, physically or mentally-we just can't take that for granted. I'm so happy for you!

And I want to thank you so much for your beautiful, lifting comment!! kim

[tamara]

oh paula...i'm so glad you shared the gift of this day with us. this is a beautiful photo-heart connection. thank you.

[seabluelee]

Paula, this brought tears to my eyes. I think dementia must be the hardest way to lose a loved one. I'm so glad you had the gift of this special time with your dad. Your photo and your words are beautiful.

[Kim]

Paula, I admire your spunk and energy. Doing this and being that for your Dad, with all you have gone through this last calendar year - you deserve a medal, or - TWO medals because you are a teacher and good teachers deserve a medal regularly. I also admire how you have been able to stay with Kim Klassen's work. I signed up, did a class or two but just got so way-laid by the details (I was working in full Photoshop and not elements) and just let it all go because I would spend literal hours and feel as if I hadn't really gotten any further. There is much to learn from her and kudos to you for being able to glean it. My heart aches for your Dad and how that relationship you had with him is now so different. It sounds trite to say that yours is a perfect example of why we should be seizing every moment but it is how I see it and feel blessed to be reminded when I read some of your posts and learn through your own pain and sadness.

[Kim]

P.S. Your word verification often makes me abandon what I have written and so I apologize for seeming to leave sparse comments for you.

[Cathy H.]

Touching post and beautiful image!! My father has Alzheimer's and I so dread the day when he doesn't remember us! I'm so pleased for you that your had such a special time with him!

[Kat Sloma]

My eyes are filled with tears at the heartfelt beauty of your post. Oh, to have that time with your father! It doesn't matter if the photo is "perfect" or not, it's a beautiful reminder of that wonderful time with your Dad. Thank you so much for sharing this in the Photo-Heart Connection. Sorry it took me so long to come by this month!