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2014 my
daddy and I
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The
summer of 2000 was an exciting year for me. I graduated from high school
with a class of 200 students and I was on my way to a college that my dad and I
both visited with 7600 students enrolled. I was going to be faced with
some big changes/challenges and I couldn’t have been more motivated. In
July of 2000 my parents sat down my brother and I for a family talk (shoot,
they found the evidence of the party I had last weekend). Well, not
exactly. My mom told us that my father had been diagnosed with an early
onset of Alzheimer's Disease. As I processed what this all meant I looked up
into his eyes and I saw fear. I knew my life was about to change
forever. My best friend was about to lose everything at a slow or rapid
pace, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. My protector and hero
was going to slip away from me and one day all our amazing memories would be
gone.
Its
hard to understand how this could have happened so soon to such a brilliant and
active man. My dad was an engineer, went on to law school, was in the
Airforce, volunteered with the fire department, helped out neighbors on
anything and everything, organize BBQs and hayrides for the neighborhood.
I was so angry and kept asking myself why. But time was limited and I needed
to stay strong and help out my entire family the best way I knew how.
In
the summer of 2008 my dad asked me to sit with him. I'll never ever
forget one ofthe last meaningful conversation we had:
"Honey,
Im scared. I don't know what is happening. I need you to know I'm
probably not going to be the daddy you thought you were going to have much
longer. You are approaching some real milestones in your life and I want
you to know I am always with you, even if I'm not there physically".
I told him it was ok, that he is always going to be because he is forever
within my heart. I also told him to quite that kind of talk, that he will
be fine, and we were never good at the sentimental stuff (I get
my sense of humor from my father). It was the second time I ever saw
my dad cry. He said "You are my strong girl. You are the
toughest person I have ever known and I am so proud to have raised you this
way. Keep going; you are going to change the world one day and if I'm not
there to tell you just keep going and fight. You need to take care of
your mother for me. You need to remind her its going to be ok and that I
love her. And you need to be strong at moments you want to cry and be
angry. But you need to keep fighting-- promise me you will keep
going."
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2012 my
daddy and I
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Twelve
months later every child’s worst nightmare came true. My mom suffered a
massive stroke and my father fell while the ambulance took her to the
hospital. My mom recovered from her stroke thankfully, but my dad
was becoming more weak and was down to 132 lbs (he’s 6’1). The doctors
told me I needed to make a decision that wasn’t easy; that I needed to preserve
my mother’s health and put my father into a nursing home. I visited 5
nursing homes and nothing I felt was good enough. I was exhausted and
depressed. I didn’t feel anyone could care for him the way I could.
But by the 6th nursing home, I finally
found his new home. A team of wonderful nurses helped make him as
comfortable and happy as possible. He participated and speech and
physical therapy, and visited with a neurologist and nutrionist once a
week. Things were great for about a year, and then he lost his ability to
communicate, walk, and stand on his own. But I couldn’t lose him yet. I
learned along the way there was such thing as non-verbal communication.
We worked with that for a while; "squeeze my hand once for yes and two for
no". He knew if I touched his nose (we always rubbed noses) he knew
I was there. He would give me one squeeze of his hand. This
disease was not going to break the amazing father/daughter bond we have.
As
of June 2014, when I went to visit my father in the nursing home on my 32nd birthday, he never opened his
eyes. He can barely eat even with assistance. The food is becoming
too much to swallow on his own and that’s food that's already pureed. He
cannot participate in physically therapy because his bones are too delicate and
body too frail. He is permanently confined to his wheelchair and on bed
rest. He can hear us (he always will) and thats all we can hang on
to. But every day for the past 14 years I have fought hard for him and
will continue to do so for the rest of my life.
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My
second family, Athletes to End Alzheimers
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Last
year I ran my first marathon. Not only did I complete a bucket list wish,
but I met an amazing group of individuals that I now would be lost
without. Some of my team members have turned into my secondary
brothers/sisters. It’s the best thing I could have done for my family and
myself. I know my dad was there in every stride throughout the 5
boroughs, cheering us on the way he would at all my meets in high school.
If he could help all of my team members, he would but he has passed that along
to me. I will forever be there for this organization by increasing
awareness and be another helping hand. And of course, for a few good
laughs!
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Donation frame at my “sisters” wedding
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