Saturday, October 31, 2015


Dad was sitting there watching Dateline on TV, and suddenly began to sing:

Our barque was far, far from the land 
When the fairest of our gallant band 
Grew deadly pale, and pined away 
Like the twilight dawn of an autumn day. 

We watched him through long hours of pain. 
Our fears were great, our hopes in vain. 
Death�s call he heard; made no alarm. 
He smiled and died in his messmate�s arms. 

We had no costly winding sheet. 
We placed two round shot at his feet 
And in his hammock, snug and sound: 
A kingly shroud like marble bound. 

We proudly decked his funeral vest 
With a starry flag upon his breast. 
We gave him this as a badge so brave, 
Then he was fit for a sailor�s grave. 

Our voices broke, our hearts turned weak 
And tears were seen on the brownest cheek. 
A quiver played on the lip of pride 
As we lowered him down our ship�s dark side. 

A splash, a plunge and our task was o�er 
And the billows rolled as they rolled before, 
And many a prayer said to the wave 
That lowered him in a sailor's grave.

(I guess Burl Ives used to sing this.   :D  He said, "I TOLD you i knew a lot of folk songs way before folk songs were popular!)

Been A While

It's been a while.  We're still here.  Dad forgets things more often,  Yesterday I said if he would pick up his pants that needed to be washed and go through the pockets, I would wash them.  He said OK the three times I asked him,  So I finally did it myself.  This morning I was about to fold them and put them on hangers and he volunteered, so he got most of them done, and then lost interest, except for the socks he couldn't find mates for.  I said to go look in the bedroom on the chair where he likes to pile his clotohes, and maybe he would find some matches.  He came back about ten minutes later.  I said, "Did you find any."
         "Any what?"
         "Why was I looking for socks?"

Earlier in the day he told me there was a big puddle of water "out there."  So I went and looked in the kitchen and in the wash room, where he had just been.
          Me:  "I don't see any puddles.  Where was it?"
          Him:  "Where was what?"
          Me:   "The puddle of water."
          Him:  "Well, that was an hour ago."    He has no sense of time.  If we are going to have lunch with his friend Joe, as we do every Thursday I have to remind him three or four times that he needs to hurry a little faster.  In the car he tells me "I don't know why we can't be on time so Joe doesn't have to wait for us!"   Everything always happened "an hour ago" in his mind.

He makes up stories that I'm sure are real in his mind.  He thinks our good friend Steve told him "I hate your fu*kin' guts."   We go out for lunch once a month with these old friends.  This is something Steve would NEVER do.

Dr. Shakeri said she thinks maybe he doesn't have Alzheimer's.  She says he definitely has dementia, but she thinks that by now he would be much worse than he is.  For the most part, in the moment, he is lucid, and funny.  He likes to watch the courtroom shows on TV, he likes NCIS.

He went to a Neurologist last week.  Said the President of the United States was George Bush and that we were at that moment living in Santa Ana.  "If it's not Santa Ana, then I don't know where it is."

He thought the month might be March.

Friday, February 20, 2015

Living in Two Pieces

Doesn't sleep well at night--sleeps in 2 shifts, like they apparently did in the Middle Ages.  Comes to bed at midnight, get up around 2:30 am goes out and watches TV until  5:30 or 6:00 when the paper comes, then does the crossword puzzle.  Comes back to bed and sleeps until noon.  Today he says, "I wish I could live in one piece instead of two."

Lately he has been dreaming of a little girl named Lynette he knew when he worked at Juvenile Hall in Orange County.  Abused and alone.  Fifty years ago.

Forgot how many children we have, thought it was four.  Consistently thinks he is ninety one or two, and seems surprised when I tell him he is ten years younger than that.  :)

Tuesday, October 7, 2014

Everything is fine. The paramedics just left....

Tonight Marv said he was going to take a little walk around the block.  I had a meeting at the library, and about ten minutes after he left my ride came for me.  I called home about 20 minutes later to see if everything was Ok.  No answer.  So I tried again after another 20 minutes and he answered, said everything was fine.

When I got home about an hour later, his elbow was hamburger, his eyebrow was split and swollen and there was blood all over his shirt.  Apparently somewhere between Cancun Mexican Restaurant and the liquor store he fell.  He says a bunch of ladies came out and surrounded him, the police came (again) and an ambulance brought him home.

I am overwhelmed with guilt, remembering another meeting I was at years ago.  Linn was home with the little boys.  I called home to see if everything was ok, and he answered, "Yes, everything is fine.  The paramedics just left...."   (Linn had been giving the little boys bike rides down to the school at the end of the street, and Jeremy got his foot caught in the spokes.)