Good luck to everyone out there. I guess we just take each day as it is and look for the little gifts we get along the way.
What a great way to look at it!
This disease is such a sad one. I think that my mom's sudden death was easier to bear than what we're going through with my dad now.
I know you're not asking for advice so I won't give you any. I hope that you don't mind me telling you a little about my experience with my dad.
My husband and I sold our house and moved in with dad when it became clear to me that dad could no longer live alone. We felt that it would be better for him if he stayed where he was, that it would be too confusing to move him to my house.
Dad started becoming angry and aggressive. He was angry that my husband and I moved in with him. It was ok with him that our son was there. He loves my son to death. But he didn't want us to be there because I was taking care of him, making sure he got his meds, ate enough food, made it to his doctor appts, paid his bills and got him to shower and shave. Soon after we moved in, dad began verbally abusing me horribly. It was a shock to me that he could be so cruel even though I knew it really wasn't him. It was the disease, the Imposter. How horrible this time was for my entire family, especially my son who loved his grandpa dearly and was completely blown away by all of this, let alone the fact that he was going through puberty too.
My dad is now with my sister several hundred miles from here. Before this disease started to take him, he spent most of his time at her house. In the last 2 years before this disease started to take him, he probably spent a total of 3 weeks at his house. So my sister's home was his home too.
Now, no matter where he is, he talks about going home.
My grandma, who died with AD, used to talk about going home all the time. In her mind, home was at first the home she shared with my step grandpa years before. Then as the disease progressed, home became her childhood home filled with all the people who had passed on long before.
As the disease progresses, the word home takes on a whole new meaning. Home is no longer a house, but rather a place in time where they felt healthy, happy, safe and secure. My dad is very close to that stage now and my sister and I agree this stage is actually getting easier for all, especially my dad. He no longer worries about forgetting or much anything else either.
I'm so sorry you and your family have to go through this. It's heartbreaking.
I guess that's why they call it the long goodbye.