Telephone Conversations

Dad does really well speaking on the telephone. I don’t know if he’s more relaxed because you aren’t right in front of him or what have you, but he is able to articulate very well. I call Mom and Dad’s several times a day, mostly to make sure Mom hasn’t slept until who knows when (she is NOT an early riser like Dad and I), but also to talk to Dad. This morning I called the house and cell both with no answer. I used to panic when no one answered, thinking one of them had fallen, something bad had happened. Now that I’m more relaxed, realizing and accepting what is not in my control, I don’t panic anymore. If something were to happen then something were to happen. It’s out of my hands. Anyway, I gave it half an hour and called back. Dad answered. The only way to describe how he answers the phone is adorable. “Hello,” he says in a quiet but raised voice. He actually reminds me very much of his mother, my Oma, on the phone. “Hi Dad, how are you?” I asked. He replied, “Did you call before?” I said to him, “I did but you didn’t answer.“ He began, “I was...,” and then he stumbled for a second. I waited, then chimed in, “In the bathroom?” He laughed and replied, “Yes, in the bathroom.” I laughed. “Is Mom up?” I asked. “Yes, she’s taking a shower,” he told me. “Awesome! That’s what I was looking to hear. She’s going to get breakfast for you?” He replied, “Yes, cereal.” I said, “That’s right. Make sure you remind her to use the milk, not the light cream.” He repeated, “Yes, milk.” I said, “Ok, I have to go, I will talk to you later.” He replied, “OK, bye.” We hung up. Doesn’t sound like much of a conversation does it? Except for the complete sentences he strung together without a thought in the world. I don’t know, maybe it really doesn’t take much to make me happy, because that conversation made my day.     

Speech Therapy

I'm often asked about Dad's speech, "Well, can he talk?" Yes he can and yes he does. Not like he used to, but yes.

Yesterday I took Dad to speech therapy. It was the first time I had taken him since his initial visit, a couple of weeks after he came home. Normally our friend Bill takes Dad, something I am beyond grateful for, but Bill couldn’t take him yesterday. I’m fortunate that Bill has been able to help out with speech therapy appointments and that Mom has been able to drive Dad into town for his physical and occupational therapy appointments. I don’t feel like there are several of me running around from town to town (because we are in Maine, nothing is close).  

So away we went to speech therapy. I had a blast. I can’t tell you the last time I had so much fun. His speech therapist, Karen, is a wonderful woman with a great sense of humor. I expected to just sit quietly while they worked on his exercises, but no this was interactive so I got to participate! Karen sat next to Dad and would show him a photo. He then had to describe the photo and I had to guess what it was. Karen gave him clues as to what to describe or to focus in on. Little known fact about me. I hate games, except card games. I’m the last person you want on your Pictionary team and I’m horrible at charades. Needless to say, I now had to play guesswork with what Dad was seeing. Maybe it’s being in tune with someone else, maybe it’s that Dad is extremely expressive and descriptive, but I got every photo he described to me. For someone who has difficulty getting the words out, Dad does an amazing job of getting the point across, which is unusual for someone with aphasia Karen said. Normally the short term memory kicks in (or disappears) and the train of thought is lost or the person prior to the aphasia didn’t use language much to begin with so the complex way the brain strings together sentences and forms conversations isn’t really felt as a loss to the individual. With Dad though, his thought process is so intact and exact that it enables him to very effectively communicate, despite the lack of words. The flip side is it also makes it that much more frustrating for him when he can’t get the words out. Karen told me (something I already knew) Dad is a perfectionist and very hard on himself when he gets a word wrong, something he knows as soon as it’s uttered from his lips. That’s usually when he swears and makes a discouraged face. I learned how to help him get his point across by taking clues from the few words he got out and whatever hand gestures he gave me. This was charades, only Dad was allowed to talk. The best example I can give of this was a photo of eggs with bacon and toast (breakfast of champions). As soon as Dad saw it he looked at me, made a yummy sound and smacked his lips. I said is it food? Yes (his eyes widened). I said is it breakfast? Yes (his eyes widened even more). Is it eggs and bacon? Ding ding ding, winner winner chicken dinner! Karen was hysterically laughing that we got it so quickly. All I could think was, I know my Dad, that’s for sure. It was a great therapy session and I’m so glad I went with him yesterday. I will treasure that memory for the rest of my days.     

Father's Day

I don't ascribe to Holidays designed by card companies to promote their products. So a day set aside for things like remembering love or your Mother and Father seem ridiculous. I'm a firm believer that every day should be a reminder of this. It's a novel idea to tell the people you cherish I love you every day. With that being said it is Father's Day today. Being 41 I have friends who have lost their fathers, who didn't have a father, who are fathers, who don't get along with their fathers.
Every day is Father's Day since Dad's stroke and so while this day might be set aside as a reminder for everyone else, I already celebrate it every day. He has not had it easy, losing a child and then raising two unconventional children, but he has always done everything with kindness and grace. Not perfect by any means, but shamelessly selfless, I love my Dad and I am proud to know him as a father, friend and person. He continues to inspire and amaze me everyday.

Sebec house, Dad's favorite house

top of Great Pond Mountain 2010

Mt. Katahdin in background July 2003

summer 2010 Rockland Maine

   

Free Caneing It

Here is Dad walking without the hemi-cane and as you can see his balance has improved greatly. Every day getting better. Every day.

Determination

I like to capture candid moments through photography or video. You know, those little snippets of life that show more than a posed photo or choreographed video ever could. For me it’s always been about capturing the real you, not the Xerox copy of yourself that you put forth for all the world to see. And I’ve gotten some great shots of loved ones over the years, not only in documenting my own life but also of those that are close to me.

So I watched and videoed Dad ever so carefully moving his chair to a shady part of the yard last weekend. He was carrying the chair and using his hemi-cane with the same hand, something that would have made us and his therapists nervous two months ago. However; I thought, I’m watching him, if something happens I’m right inside. Let’s see how he does this. Click on the link below to view the video.

Early Morning

If you watch, there’s a moment when he reaches the spot he likes, where he pauses for a moment to look around. I can only imagine what he was thinking, because it was a gorgeous morning, his backyard overflowing with spring. Then he opens the chair. Resilient as ever, he uses his right arm to help open it, something I thought humorous. We always find a way to get things done if we are determined enough don’t we? Dad is most determined. It’s the surest sign that he won’t let this stroke get the best of him. And neither will I. Enjoy.

Visitors and Lobster

For the last week we have had Mom’s sister, my Aunt Linda and her husband, my Uncle Don visiting. Just as wonderful as it was for my Aunt Mel to visit back in February, so too is it wonderful to see Aunt Linda and Uncle Don. Dad is an only child, so the only relatives we knew growing up were on Mom’s side of the family (with the exception of a sister of Oma’s that flew over from Germany a couple of times). I have great memories of family vacations with them and my cousins over the decades. Mom and Dad share many more memories before all us cousins were born.

Uncle Don lost his sight about 8 years ago. There were many harrowing weeks and months he was in the hospital and then rehab. His recovery was long and arduous. Different circumstances with similar recovery experiences, both my Aunt and Uncle could relate to what Dad, Mom, all of us have been going through. I believe it was helpful for Dad to see the progress Uncle Don has made. He never regained his sight, but if there is anyone who has a great attitude about the curve balls life can throw you, it’s my Uncle Don. I thought I had a great attitude? He could teach a class in positive thinking. He is amazing and it was a very good visit.  

In true Maine fashion (for me at least), when company comes to visit and it’s summer time (because in my mind I’ve skipped what’s left of spring).…you cook lobster. Last year I tried doing a lobster bake in a pot on the stovetop. If you google it, you will find tons of versions on how to do this and it’s so easy! So I decided to kick off this year and end their visit, by doing a lobster bake. To make sure there was enough for seven people, I doubled everything and used two giant pots. If you do this at home you basically want to make sure there is at least one of everything you put in the pot for each person, with a little extra for seconds. For anyone looking for the recipe, please click on the link below. It is well worth the effort!

Stovetop Lobsterbake

Me, Aunt Linda, Uncle Don, Mr. C, Dad and Mom

Six Months

Six months ago today Dad had the first stroke. It seems a lifetime ago and yet is only six months. Six months and the rest of our lives, for this is only the beginning of a lifelong rehabilitation. Yet, I could be writing something very different. I could be writing that this is six months since my father passed away, because he could have and there were many doctors that were anxious about Dad because his recovery was so slow. But I'm not and I don't have to. I hope to not have that conversation with you for many decades to come. Life is precious and we only have today. Make it worth the hours, make it worth the breath, make it worth the words you say to those you love and hold close to your heart.