Curve balls and adjustments

Had a visit from my brother and his two toddler kids yesterday. It was a nice break from the regular routine. Still, every day I see Dad completely retreating more into himself - not talking, physically moving away from people and then falling asleep in a group setting. At least now I'm not the only one to see it. I think my brother finally could tell. Mom plugs along like the true trooper that she is, but it's hard to hold whatever is next at bay. And that's the sticky part. What IS next?

Just when I think we've got a reliable routine, something changes. Again, I can't help but compare this to raising children. You finally get them to nap at a certain time of day and then they grow and age out of that nap. Suddenly, that time you had to get something done is gone. Another adjustment.

Yesterday, Hubby and I had tickets to a Brewers game. We bought a 10-pack for the season, but this was the first one we were able to attend. Darling daughter was prepped and ready to hang with Mom and Dad in our absence. She also created an amazing lunch for all of us. She's quite the cook. An amazing kid.

Anyway, we escaped the house for a while and everything seemed fine when we got home. Then suddenly, Mom was making a beeline for me:

Mom: Um, I need to tell you something.
Me: Uh oh. What is it?
Mom: Dad said he wants to get his driver's license back.
Me: Well THAT'S not going to happen!
Mom: He said he was going to call about it. I told him that it's Saturday and he said he'd call on Monday.

Once again, Dementia throws us a curve ball. I GET why Dad thinks he's OK. So often, he seems absolutely sharp as a tack. He remembers things and can converse easily. But then things like this happen. He forgets that there's a solid reason for him to have had his license revoked. Not to mention the fact that he falls asleep in a room with 5 adults and 2 toddlers. Even without the dementia, he'd be a risk behind the wheel.

And then last night he commented on the nice visit we had with my brother. "Did you know he was coming over?," he asked. I started to remind him that he called on Mother's Day and Dad was really excited to hear that he was going to visit, but again, I need to reserve my energy for things worth doing.

Early on in Dad's stay here, he wrote a letter to his best friend to let him know what happened to him. It took him a while to write it. The man whose penmanship was always artistic and precise has deteriorated. He asked for an envelope and I gave it to him. He asked me to mail the letter. At the risk of invading his privacy, I decided that I should read the letter before I mailed it in case it made no sense at all...or, in case it said: HELP ME I'M BEING HELD CAPTIVE.

In any case, the letter basically said that he fell and that he's here, in Wisconsin, "recovering." It then referenced a house that my parents hadn't lived in in over 30 years. Plus, the handwriting was tough to read. I boldly wrote a cover letter to Dad's friend to explain what was happening. I encouraged him to call or visit anytime and thanked him for his longstanding friendship to both of my parents. We didn't hear anything for a long time and I worried that I scared his friend away.

Then yesterday, a letter with no return address came in the mail. (If you recall, we are now sneaking the mail in the house and dispersing it in a more safe manner, lest important documents are shredded.) Dad's friend thanked me for my letter and said that last time he saw Dad he didn't seem like himself and my letter helped explain that. It was the nicest thing ever and restored my confidence that some of the things I'm doing on Dad's behalf aren't totally worthless.

I must remind myself - a day at a time. A day at a time.