It looks like a perfectly normal photo of a 91-year-old man. So, what’s “heart-pinching” about it?
I’d arrived the day before to visit him in the facility he’d lived with my mother for 3 years. When he looked up and saw me approach, he said, “Hi, Kathy. What are you doing here?”
Again, what’s “heart-pinching” about that?
My mother died the day before. Dad was there along with my two siblings when she left us. She died so quickly, I didn’t have time to drive/fly in to join them.
You see, within 24 hours, dad forgot his wife of nearly 70 years had died. His words hit me as few things have. I recovered quickly and said, “I came to see you, Dad.”
Dad smiled and asked how my family was, calling them by name. How was my drive in from Pennsylvania, etc. He could remember events, facts from long ago. What he couldn’t remember was something as tragic and life-changing as the death of his wife.
And, he didn’t “discover it” until 2 days later. My parents lived in separate parts of the facility. Dad was in the dementia section, while mother was in another wing reserved for people who required hospital care.
I spent a half day sorting out mother’s room, deciding what needed to be donated and what needed to be thrown away. Dad didn’t have a bedspread for his bed, so I took mother’s bedspread and placed it on his bed.
Dad looked at it then said, “That’s mother’s bedspread. Doesn’t she need it anymore? Is she all right?” I could see his mind working to that final conclusion. “Is she dead?”
What could I say except, “Yes, she died.”
Dad dropped his head then, ever practical, he reached for his billfold and checkbook. “We need to see the funeral director and make plans.”
Now, how was I going to tell him that my two siblings had already done that? How was I to tell him that we’d taken the responsibility of his wife’s burial out of his hands and taken care of our mother’s burial without consulting him?
I gently told him that it was already taken care of. He sat down heavily on the bed and, again, bowed his head.
I gave him a few seconds then said, “Are you angry with us, Dad?”
“No, it’s all right.”
That was dad. Never angry with anyone. Always understood everything. I didn’t mention that he was there when she died and had forgotten. What would that do except remind him that his mind was failing him?
Six weeks later, Dad joined mother. He was a wonderful man and, 7 years later, we still miss him
