"This is not a tragedy. People get old; they die." That's what my 28 year-old son told me the day after Christmas because I could not quit crying. He said I was using my dad's Alzheimers as an excuse to be miserable. So, I thought...maybe he's right. It's true. My father has AD and I AM MISERABLE.
But, also true, I have been caring for my father these past five years, often times, completely on my own. In the beginning, after the diagnosis and the death of my mother, family members came and went; each doing their best to live with Dad, cook for him, and keep him safe, but nothing worked for long. My brothers moved out of state, my kids moved on with their young lives, and, eventually, I had complete responsibility for the aging, ailing man who had, at one time or another, taken care of all of us.
My father and I have been on a long, hard journey into the world of AD together. We are in the final stage; yesterday, he tried to bite me. I started this blog because I need to decompress. I don't want to use AD as an excuse to be miserable, and I have a lot to say. I am in search of a village.
