Perspective

My dad has dementia, which many of you may already know or have guessed by now (due to my recent cryptic blogs). It's been far from easy in dealing with it, and it's a day in day out kind of deal. Things are stressful to say the least. Everything takes longer to do, thoughts don't get completed, frustrations and tensions are running high and our patience with one another is non existent.

I try, I really try to account for this, but my fuse is short. Patience is something I've never been that good at. He was helping me cut out Christmas cookies and it was a painstakingly slow process. Cut the dough with the cookie cutter. Take a knife and separate the shape. Inch by inch slide the spatula under the cookie, then handing the scrunched cookie to me so I could put it on the sheet. Wait until it was on the sheet before picking up the cookie cutter and starting the process over again. And I can tell he's concentrating and trying so hard, because he's sticking out his tongue. He's always done that when he was concentrating. He's enjoying himself and I wanted to snatch the cookie cutter away and take over. I danced goofily to Christmas music instead, but it's difficult.

But a friend of dr soc (and mine) buried her father yesterday and it put things in perspective. Because even though my dad worries and exasperates me on daily basis, at least he's still here. He isn't the same, but he's here. And I'm thankful for that.