Every time I have my holiday leave from work I notice things about the folks that slip by when I am not there 24/7. Just coming home at night after a full day at work, fixing dinner, getting pills ready, bathing, etc. does not give you much time for observation.
I remember the year that I noticed mom had experienced a stroke. Her speech was a bit slurred and her memory loss was more exaggerated.
This season I noticed how much dad has aged since mom’s death. He has become my ‘Jiminy Cricket.’ He is my conscious, my 'remembery.' He insists on giving me directions to places I have been driving to for years.
He wants to remind me, or be reminded of, what we are going to do the following day. He wants a blow-by-blow description of what I am doing in the other room.
I don’t know what has caused this. Perhaps it is because he was in charge of mom’s world for the last few years and that sense of responsibility for someone has been transferred to me. Perhaps he is getting forgetful and wants to reassure himself of the details of the day and how to get there. I just do not know, but I find it a bit irritating. It is like having a backseat driver with you whether you are in the car or not.
Whenever dad and I would get in one of these conversations, particularly the one’s concerning directions, I felt like I was in a bad rewrite of ‘Who’s on First.’ Dale experienced several of these encounters between dad and me. He would whistle and act like he was ignoring the confrontation. The one we had over New Year’s Eve dinner was so confusing to me that Dale and I both looked at each other as though Dad were out of his mind – which I think he was as the time.
I believe I will consult with the counselor from Hospice before this goes too far. We need to nip-it-in-the-bud before it gets out of control, if at all possible.
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