Friday has become my dad day. I spend at least an hour with him in the morning. Today is no exception.
He has been in a Memory Care Center for two months. It was a hard decision to make. One filled with doubts and second guessing. But, as we watch his continued withdrawal and decline, we know now that this is right. He is getting what we couldn't give and more of what we could... and this is good.
Today, I found him is his usual morning place. In a wheelchair at the dining room table. All alone. I sat down in front of him and tried to make eye contact. This is becoming increasingly difficult. My eyes chased his and we finally connected. I got a smile and a chuckle. He doesn't speak much.
As part of our routine, I scratch his back which is riddled with keratosis. Some days this perks him up and he leans forward anticipating more. Today he didn't budge. I went to his room, got a warm, wet wash cloth. I wiped his face, cleaned the gunk from his lashes, and groomed his hair a bit. He enjoyed this, just as he did at home.
Most of my visit today was quiet. I just sat next to him as he slept. He perked up a bit after the nurses (who call him Ter-Bear) urged him to get up. He took a brief walk with their assistance. He sat down, in a chair this time, and we were able to connect eye to eye. He held eye contact for a bit this time. I like that. It gives our souls a chance to communicate. Another chuckle or two later he was back to dozing off. I said my goodbyes and told him I would see him another day.
