My Demented Mom

5 million Americans suffer from Dementia. My mom is one of them. A site for young adult caregivers struggling and coping with "the long goodbye."

My dad used to call me his “princess” or “buckaroo.” Not anymore. My dad was always my favorite parent. He wasn’t exactly the disciplinarian, unless I did something really bad like crash my car—5 times (only 3 accidents were technically my fault)—and he would always indulge me whenever he could. The perks of being an only child and his daughter, I suppose.

But with mom being sick, our relationship has changed…. he’s a husband and parent and I’m a daughter and parent of a wife and mother. Strange. We don’t always agree on her caregiving…. he’s still my dad and her husband, so while our arguments aren’t exactly arguments, they’re tifts, mini squabbles that end fast, never escalating, just disagreements—I don’t know what they are really….. some jacked-up daddy-daughter dance, I think we’re both trying to do what’s best for our demented loved one without pissing off the other.

Clumsily treading some twisted dance floor, never looking at each other directly in the eye, that would be awkward… an uneven parquet floor, desperately avoiding each other’s toes. It’s often rather gauche. And sometimes subtle moves are made to steer the other partner in another direction. Trip. Ouch. My toe.

I miss my dad. I don’t have any other family in Phoenix and I often feel very alone. It’s just the two of us—and sometimes, I do wish my mother’s disease would take her away, so I, selfishly, could have my daddy back….. dinners, lunch, drinks… political conversations, movies…. maybe even holidays with friends… These days, holidays aren’t my thing—I like them, but I’m not into them because for me there’s no point…. instead they’re just a tragically grotesque reminder of what IS and what will never BE.

“We should visit your parents again, maybe lunch or take your dad shooting…”

That’s HIM. The man I’ve been dating now for almost four months. I couldn’t believe it—he actually wants to spend time with my family. That’s weird. He wants to hang out with my dad. He is willing to sit through lunch while my mom forces him to eat carmel popcorn (she shoveled a handful onto his plate the first time he came over, he graciously accepted). Who is this dude? This CANNOT be real or HE cannot be human. But he is. He accepts me and my family for who we are. He knows that I miss my dad and that I wish I could have my Kat and dad time…. without my mom.

So this Saturday, the three of us are going out shooting and then bringing back Chinese food for lunch with the man and the fam.

One thought on “Daddy-Daughter Dance at the Shooting Range…

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