I'm starting to wonder if Daddy may be getting close to the end of his journey. Lately, he tearfully states how "tired" he is. I remember my grandmother said that quite a bit before she peacefully slept away.
I try to encourage him, but it does get hard sometimes. Yes, he is a miserable, angry narcissistic grouch 99% of the time, but it hurts me to watch him suffer. If I were in his shoes, I'd certainly want things to be different.
He HATES wearing the oxygen. He complains of being lonely (though he pretty much refuses to even TRY some of the activities offered at his AL), His sight is almost completely gone--something he tries to hide, but I can tell. Then there are the moments when I can tell he realizes that something's not right with his brain but can't put a finger on it. Just a couple of nights ago he had a panic attack because he couldn't remember what happened to a banana he had earlier that day--turns out he had eaten it.
It's at times like these that I really don't know what to say. Poor guy...
It's crazy... as much as he drives me completely up the wall, I'm sure I would miss his antics and our fights when he does go...
It's just sad to see him like this... He looks like my Dad, but he's no longer there... I HATE THIS!!!!!!
I'm sorry you're going through this with your dad.
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When my mother had a glimpse of her own memory failure I tried to be reassuring. "Well, it doesn't really matter if you can remember having lunch or not. You are in a good, safe place with lots of helpers that know you. They see to it that you get to the dining room for every meal." That seemed somewhat helpful to her. But it is certainly very hard to know what to say when your own heart is breaking!