"You're just a shell of yourself."
I remember getting into the car and going out to the bay, so that we could play on the playground. He chased me through the sand and made sure that if I fell down, I was alright. The snack stand and I had become best friends at this point. I always got a pixie stick to overload me with sugar.
Countless trips to the zoo, Sea World, and Disneyland were under my belt. We took road trips across the country, pretending to be cooks and pirates in the RV. When I was 9, you made sure we took the road trip of a life time to Yellowstone National Park. I lost all of the pictures from that trip, but the memories are still alive and well. We came across a buffalo crossing, we took pictures on the edge of a cliff with only a tree standing blowing in the harsh winds, and horseback riding through the mountains of Wyoming. I forgot my CD's so we listened to Tragic Kingdom by No Doubt for 10 days straight. Whenever I listen to that album, I remember that trip. I didn't appreciate that trip then, but I sure as shit do now.
When I was 7, you made sure I stayed with my family. I'm sure the last thing you wanted to be doing was raising a little shit bag in your 50's. But you did. You took responsibility for me, and made sure I was taken care of above and beyond what I deserved sometimes.
You helped me with school projects, drove me to my friends houses at all hours of the day and night, and threw me birthday parties. You got me the N64 I still play with to this day, you put up with the multiple pets I would bring home, and you taught me how to take care of a cat really well.
You bought my school uniforms when I went to private school. You bought my shoes I had to have because all the other kids had them. And you taught me how to use a washing machine to wash said clothing and shoes by my damn self.
When I was a teenager, you taught me how to drive. I remember scaring you on more than one occasion on those morning drives to school. I remember you letting me take the car to school the day I got my license, just so I could show off that I passed my test. You let me take the car a lot, so that I could feel independent. You trusted me, even though sometimes I probably shouldn't had been trusted.
You sent me to college, even though you didn't need to. That degree was over priced, but I'm absolutely the luckiest person in the world to exit college without any debt. On top of that, you blessed me with the best graduation present I think I still didn't deserve at the time, a brand new car. I drove that car off the lot the happiest person in the world. I remember you calling me, telling you to meet you at the dealership after class. I begged my teacher to leave early and rushed there to get my graduation present way too early.
You didn't understand what was happening when I got sober, but you never pushed me to do anything I didn't want to do. I stayed with my grandma for a month because I wasn't comfortable in my own room. You never pressured me. You let me heal the way I needed to. You drove me to the ER countless times to figure out what was wrong with me. You drove me to doctors appointments and to psych appointments. You made sure I was taken care of physically and mentally not only then, but my entire life.
Those opportunities to travel the places that I got to travel to, would never had happened without you. The things that I was given and blessed with wouldn't have been possible without you. The silly memories and stories wouldn't be the same without you there.
When I was 21, I finally left the nest.
I landed a decent paying job a month after I graduated college, cashed out one of my bank accounts, and found my first apartment.
Everything was great. I was working a job I liked, had good friends to have fun with, and finally gained a sense of true independence for the first time in my life.
I started to notice a very slow and gradual decline with you. You would forget to write things down on the grocery list, your things would get misplaced, you would forget where you put something down.
Not too long after this started, the doctors determined it was the early stages of Alzheimers.
At first, it was simple. Take a few pills, do some mind strengthening exercises, and stay active physically. You took multiple walks a day, and still do now.
It started to escalate a little further for a couple of years.
You would make trips to the bank, very convinced that you were running out of money and taking out different amounts multiple times a week.
You would pay bills too many times.
You would send money to those ridiculous "pity my organization" type junk mail people over and over again. You were their best friend for a while, I'm sure.
It started getting to the point where food would be left in the oven, on the stove, or in the microwave for far too long.
You would take your meds too many times a day.
He moved in to make sure you didn't burn the damn house down, and to make sure you weren't losing money anymore. He was there to make sure you weren't paying those ridiculous organizations preying on old people. He was there to make sure your medication was taken properly, and at the correct dosage. He was making sure you turned the microwave or stove off.
Things were still manageable for a while. You still drove, you still went to the store with your own money (given to you in small amounts by dad) and bought groceries you wanted. You still did your crossword puzzles and read your magazines. You could still manage to do your own thing, with a very minor bit of supervision.
Slowly but surely, the decline became worse.
As the months went by, the Alzheimers would progress.
It came to the point where we had to take your license away. I remember the last trip I ever drove with you. It was to the store in Chula Vista. It wasn't far, but it was the most terrifying experience I had ever had. You weren't hitting the brakes until the last minute, you shotgun started that car every light that turned green, and you turned way too fast for what that car could handle.
Dad would go out and spend time with his Ministry kids and families, he would go to dinner with his best friend, and go to meetings with his friends. The worse you got, the less time he could spend going out to do those things.
It started with dad being gone all day, doing whatever he needed to do. Then, dad could only be gone for about 6-8 hours a day. Then, dad could only be gone for about 4-5 hours a day. Then, down to 1-2 hours a day. Now, we're at the point where my dad can no longer leave the house without grandpa being supervised. He can go to the car for 5 minutes, or to the mailbox. But no more breakfasts with friends, trips to hang out with Ministry kids, or meetings.
Since its become this way, I've started to come in 1-3 days a week depending on the week. I'll be there anywhere from 2-5 hours depending on what my dad needs.
I'm not there enough to see every negative aspect of this disease, but the small amount that I'm seeing weekly is enough for me to fucking hate this disease for everything that it is.
My grandfather doesn't deserve this.
He lived such a great life, serving his country, making sure people were taken care of despite how shitty they may have turned out, and raising his granddaughter when no one else could at the time.
My grandfather doesn't deserve Alzheimers.
He is becoming a shell of the person that I used to know. He looks the same, but he's different.
I find that I'm repeating myself multiple times within a really small time frame because he can't remember what we're talking about. He will try to get into things he can't get into, over and over again. He's got this obsession with the back patio door. We don't let him have a key anymore because the last time he had access to a hose, he flooded the neighbors back yard.
This person that used to take care of me, is now being taken care of. The person that made sure I was fed, I'm now making sure is fed correctly. The person who would take me to the park to walk around in the sand and play, I'm now taking to the park to keep him active.
Its surreal to be in this position. I haven't really processed it all the way, to be honest. I'm not sad, I'm not upset. This is something we've known about for years. I guess whats surreal is the fact that the decline I'm seeing now, was much more rapid than before. Over the matter of about 4 years, the decline was going by slowly. Then, over this past year or so, I've seen a drastic and rapid downfall.
The man that once took me to the zoo and taught me how to drive, isn't going to remember what my name is before too long.
I'm scared for the day that things get so bad, that we have to put him into a full time care facility. I'm scared for my dad now. He's so stressed out, and its shitting on his mental and physical well being hard. I'm scared of the intense rapid decline I've been reading about. I'm scared of that final stage of Alzheimers.
My dad and I are all we have. Our other family members don't help out, so its just us two making sure things are taken care of. Its just us making sure that grandpa has a guardian at all times. Its surreal to me that at 26 years old, I have to make sure an 80 year old man is taken care of.
I can't imagine it from my fathers perspective. Thats his parent. If I was doing this for my own dad, I don't know where I'd be mentally.
The only advice I have to give if you're reading this and dealing with a family member or loved one with Alzheimers, is to lean on those that you love and care about. Seek help if you need it. Talk to the people you care about and seek comfort through those people.
The one thing that keeps me going, and keeps me positive is that this is a season. This isn't a permanent situation. One day, we will all be released from this pain and sadness. One day, my grandfather will be able to rest easy and hang out with the big guy upstairs. Until then, its going to be an uphill battle full of pain and suffering.
Its only a season, thats what I keep telling myself.
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