Alzheimer’s Daughter introduces the reader to my healthy parents, Ed and Ibby, years before their diagnosis, then recounts painful details as our roles reversed and I became my parents’ parent.
Their disease started as translucent, confused thoughts and ended in a locked memory care unit after a near decade of descent into the opaque world of Alzheimer's.
I began writing Alzheimer’s Daughter one week after my mother's death––when I was stunned, realizing Dad had no memory of her or their 66-year marriage.
I write to pay tribute to the undying spirit at Ed and Ibby's core, and with the hope that the story of their parallel decline might be helpful to others.
Saturday, June 16, 2012
In June of last year while running routine errands in the grocery store, I stopped in the card aisle, intending to buy three Father's Day cards, as I had for over thirty years––one for my husband, one for my father-in-law, and one for my dad. Unexpected, deep sadness gripped me as I realized I'd never buy him a card again.
I hope my Father's Day post reaches him in heaven.
Have any of you had a similar experience? What are your Father's Day memories?