What it must be like?

As I sit and listen to Dad fixate on "his reality" and spin his vividly outrageous and  fearful stories, I try to imagine what it might be like inside his head.  When my brother tries to suggest logical reasons for what Dad believes to be the truth, I know it is not that simple.

It's like Dad is in a cloud burst. He walks down the street and it is stormy, with lightning, thunder and pouring rain.  He is confused, demented, paranoid and hallucinating.  Then the clouds part, the sun shines and Dad is lucid and chatting and making sense.  Then, the sky darkens, a crack of lightning pierces the earth and the skies rattle with heart pounding thunder and Dad is back in the storm.

Its like he takes bits of truth, reality, memories, and fantasy and stirs it all into a huge pot of soup and the steam rises up and become his conversation...

It must be so terrifying for him living a nightmare.  As he sits and tells me his fears I can't help notice the machine next to him displaying his heart beat from 60 to 100.  I can visibly SEE his terror and there is nothing I can do but sit there and hold his hand.

This is just the worst thing ever.  I am so glad, we are all glad, Dad is feeling better. The fact he is slowly being sucked into this "black hole" of dementia makes me feel so helpless.  I don't want him to be sucked away.  I want to be able to keep him with my love and devotion.  I want to...but I know I can not. I have no control over it...I can only love him and make sure he is protected and safe.