Random thoughts of this and that..

Now I know how my brother in Ohio must feel. I am not having any luck reaching Dad anymore. He is rarely in his room, or he is not answering his phone. I have to rely on Mom or my sister giving me a call when they visit, so I can talk with Dad. I just tried AGAIN to reach him, and was told he is not in his room. According to the schedule, he is most likely in the Rec room having ice cream. I'll try again later, just before dinner...

Eight more days before my sister comes to visit. I can't wait! The time is flying by so fast. Before we know it, it will be the holidays. It's going to be weird not having Dad there to say the blessing for Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve and Christmas morning...

In looking through my blue box I ran across one of my favorite poems,

Sea Fever by John Macefield...

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and sky,

And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,

And the wheel's kick and the wind's song
and the white sail's shaking,

And a gray mist on the sea's face and a gray dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide,

Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;

And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,

And the flung spray and the blown spume,
and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life.

To the gull's way and the whale's way
where the winds like a sharpened knife;

And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,

And a quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long tricks over.

Makes me think of Discovery channel's TV reality program, Deadliest Catch. It is one of the highest risk jobs, hence the name. Has anyone seen it? I just love that show! It is about crab fisherman fishing the Berin Sea, in Alaska. They profile several of the fleets Captains and their crew. The footage is raw and frightening. The film crew really earn their money filming on those turbulent seas with 30-40 foot waves! It is off season now, but should be starting up again in January I think.

I'm weird. I like survivor reality shows like Man vs Wild with Bear Grylls and Survivorman with Les Stroud. I am totally scooped up and hypnotized with those shows. It is so fascinating to me. Anyone else? One never knows if some of their survivor tips might save a life one day...

This blog can be exasperating when it does not edit the spaces right....

Think I will try to reach Dad again...

The shark in the blue box...

I was going through my journals. I have been keeping journals since I was 18, and before that, I wrote on loose paper and stored them in a blue box. At age 10, someone gave me a gift of a crucifix in that blue box. I no longer have the crucifix, but that blue box has been with me for over 50 years.

Inside that box are my letters to Paul McCartney, my thoughts of first love, poetry, stories I wrote to read to my siblings (Rothchild's Ruins) and various other treasures cherished by a preteen.

The last few days, thinking about Dad, have been rough. For some reason, a poem I wrote back in high school with my best friend, came to my mind. I went to my blue box and found it. It is pretty intense and dark, but we felt that way a lot in high school...I also had a morbid fascination of sharks and read obsessively about them.

I am the shark.

The deep dark waters of the night,

Ripple away the earth.

The weed of the sea,

Plants its black roots in the remains.

Sun casts my sight,

To find the way of sleep.

And wooden ships my fear,

Red puddles flow for me.

Squirming flesh crawls 'til surface,

Haunting screams my eternity.

Hunger my searching nightmare.

Rock is my home.

Pearls my prey.

Shells are the shoulders of my past.

The pound of the waves hides a treasure,

Opened only to the dive of time.

My kind weaves the wind that pulls the sail,

And latches the quiet of each man's rug.

There were many ways to interpret those words...and I would be interested in your interpretations, so please comment...

Yet, after all these years, the poem came back to me and brought comfort to my soul...

A whole lotta shakin' going on...

My husband's surprise party was a success. Only 16 of us were together to celebrate, but that is the up side of having a large family, even if half show up, its still substantial...

By 9 am, I saw the last of the over night company off to return to California.... Still, the dark shadow is still breathing down my neck. One thing about darkness, it really knows how to stir the pot. Every little thing that is negative, plus most of the positives, become twisted and dark, like a large ominous storm cloud creeping over a sunny landscape...

A whole lotta' shakin' is going on inside me...feel real jumpy and nervous. I talked to Mom today. She was visiting Dad and he told her someone had stolen my painting and replaced it with another. Mom assured him it was the same painting I had done for him. He didn't believe her. Mom tried to call me but my phone was on vibrate since I had an appointment. Apparently, Mom could not find my signature on the lower right of the painting.

Just listening to Mom talk about the negative visit she had with Dad, made me want to hang up and also made me relate to Mom in a way I usually don't. I too have been finding myself reluctant to talk with Dad, or relieved when I call and Dad is in activities or they are passing medications. I don't like that about myself. It makes me feel guilty as hell!

While Mom was talking to me, I found myself thinking back to my Mother in Law. We would visit her one day and come back the next day and she would whine and ridicule us for not seeing her in so long. I could hear Mom tell me Dad asked where we all were...he sounded surprised I was in Nevada. My Mother in law totally forgot her son and I were married...

In some ways, Dad sounds like he is getting more paranoid. That is the evil part of this disease, we can never be familiar with Dad. How we used to walk into a room, without thinking, and fold ourselves into his arms for a hug. Effortless, without any thought other than how good it feels to get one of his hugs. Now we almost have to gear up, go into combat mode. Be a defensive and strategic. Put on our Scout badges to be prepared...

We never really know for sure how we will find Dad... Its all up in the air... Just go with the flow. Its like riding a roller-coaster, and I HATE ROLLER-COASTERS!!!!

I understand mourning. A person does not have to go to a funeral to feel that kind of loss. I know we can all feel it, even though Dad is still here... but living with it is creepy. The kind of creepy, one wants to avoid...

So,

I am done writing today.

Inside a deep pit of loss...

Today, in the mist of attending to the secret details for my husband's 70th birthday party tonight, I felt something dark pulling me down...I shrugged my shoulders, trying to fend it off, thinking only the most pleasant thoughts...Going about my day, busy with cleaning, it kept creeping up behind me and pulling at me.... OK, since it is NOT going away, let's deal with this thing, FACE ON!

This morning, right out of bed, I noticed the bag sitting on the table beside my stereo. For a brief moment, I forgot what it held. Looking inside, I saw a bunch of tapes my Father had recorded. I took them from the house when I was helping Mom. I intend to listen to them, hence, their place by the stereo.

Sorting through the tapes, I noticed some notes written by Dad. Pulling them out to investigate, I discovered they were journal pages of Dad's, dated from July 7, 2005 to July 31, 2005. My first reaction was noticing none of the writing was consistent, as if written by several different hands. Yet, it was Dad's writing, which looked so strange and unfamiliar.

I only read a few pages and became emotional. I stuffed it back in the bag of tapes and did my best to push it out of my mind. I had too much to do...

Now, as I examine this dark feeling, I realize the huge sense of loss I feel with my Father. I miss him. In many ways, I feel like he has already died. Not to be morbid, but the Dad I know, is no longer around. Things are changing so fast and it is just not the same...

It sucks that Mom and Dad's house is no longer Mom and Dad's house. Now, it's Mom's house. Dad's room is there, but it's NOT there. It no longer exists. It is now, tastefully redecorated by my niece who lives in Dad's old room. I am glad she is there, don't get me wrong... I know Mom loves the company. They have always clicked and have been very close. It helps them both out, but the dynamic of home, has changed. Dad's life, his essence, has changed and is slowly slipping away...

Dad's truck was sold, all the belongings from his room, are stored in the garage. Some of his suits were sold at a yard sale or donated. His tools have been divided amongst the boys or sold. All we have left, are memories. Dad is still here, technically, physically, but mentally, he is slowly dissolving.

Reviewing these notes of Dad's, it is clear he was fighting to keep his disappearing memory a secret. No doubt he felt less of a man. Dad always had so much pride. He strived for daily routine and organization, yet it was a huge challenge for him. He did his floor exercises and ate only organic food... As if, some crash course of healthy living would cure it all.

Looking back, was I too quick to dismiss his strange behavior as senility or dementia? Not realizing how dementing, dementia really was? I mistakenly thought dementia was like senility, as if one had to pass through one, to get through to the other, not realizing, dementia is part of Alzheimer's.

We all missed it...I feel so badly that he suffered alone and no one knew until it was too late... Then again, Dad would not have allowed it to be any different. If I could not get through to him, I doubt anyone else could. He was very paranoid and suspicious, he was always that way, but the last few years, extremely so with his doctor. He was canceling and rescheduling more doctor appointments than he kept!

The past 6 months, prior to his final hospitalization, he was in and out of the hospital because he refused to follow his doctors orders, and would take himself off his meds frequently.

I just feel so lonesome for him. The phone call Mom received from Dad yesterday, (with the help of one of the nurses), brings back those first days after he was hospitalized. I was tormented by my sense of responsibility for Dad and leaving him alone at that hospital was like leaving my child behind...
I don't want to know what it feels like when Dad no longer recognizes me! I don't want to know that!! I don't want his children to feel like strangers. I don't want to see the pain on my siblings faces. Dad does not deserve this... WE don't deserve this... THE WHOLE THING SUCKS!!!

A phone call out of left field...

Dad called Mom today! Talk about a phone call out of left field!!! First thing, Dad wanted to know, where Mom was. He had gotten up early, showered and was waiting for her to go out to breakfast. Mom told him she was sorry there had been a misunderstanding, but she was home doing her Bible study.

Dad told her he was upstairs at 1446 (what we called his Mother and Dad's house in Pasadena, when we were little) and he had heard the truck pull out of the garage (the garage was not connected to the house in Pasadena, so he must have meant the Covina house, Mom is living in) and he ran from Pasadena to Covina in his bare feet and he was so tired.

Mom told him he must be exhausted from running so far. He told her they had to treat his feet because they were so burned...

Dad shocked Mom by asking if he had gotten married again... Mom told him, "No, not unless he had snuck off without her knowing about it"...

Well, he did not think Mom was doing her job. He had arthritis in his hands, he was NOT getting nutritious meals, or his vitamins. Mom tried to remind him he took his vitamins with the rest of his medication, and he became very agitated, telling her she did not know what she was talking about.

Dad asked Mom what church she was going to, and she told him the family church they always attended. Dad seemed shocked and asked why she was not going to Foothill Presbyterian anymore? When Mom told Dad Foothill was a hospital, his response was, "oh".

Then he started in on his doctor, telling Mom he didn't like him because he always talked about baseball. Mom replied that Dad likes baseball and so do their sons. Angrily, Dad hissed, that's different!

Dad couldn't remember if Pasadena was West or East, and Mom told him West, but Dad disagreed telling her West Covina was West. He wanted to know where the boys were, so Mom told him what all the boys were doing. Then, he wanted to know where my sister was, and where I was, and Mom told him...

Where is my white truck? Dad wanted to know... and Mom explained he had asked his second to the oldest son to sell it. He had sold it to one of his employees. Oh yes, Dad remembered, he got me $6000 to clean up the yard... Dad always thought his 1979 Datsun Pick Up was worth so much money because he had insisted he had a business license on it. My brother sold it for $1100.

When was she coming to see him? Dad asked. Mom told him the parking lot was being repaved and she had to walk too far in the heat. She would come Tuesday, after the paving was finished on Monday. Dad wanted to know what parking lot? The one in Covina?

Mom tried to change the subject, telling Dad one of my youngest brother's friend, and his father, wanted to come visit Dad. My brother had suggested they would make big points if they would bring Dad an In and Out shake and hamburger. Dad was questioning Mom on what they looked like, and she told Dad he would recognize them when he saw them. With that, she could hear my brother's friend's voice greeting Dad...

Dad must have spotted the food, because Mom heard the phone hang up and the call was disconnected. Once again, food is the priority!

Poor Mom was really thrown for a loop! Dad has not called the house in several months. We were all shocked earlier in the week, when the therapist told Mom Dad was shaving with an electric shaver, picking out his clothes, partially dressing himself and walking!

It's been awhile since our good days and bad days were in a span of a few days...maybe now, the span will be in a months time... or maybe, his medications need adjusting again, especially if Dad thinks he is hallucinating about running from Pasadena to Covina. We have to remember, there is no rhyme or reason with this disease...

It is all so weird and disconcerting. All seems to be going well with Dad, until the mayhem of this disease, grabs us like a big bully, yanking us out of our shoes! We all run around, questioning one another in a panic, wondering what it all means...

We then, some how, land on our feet, take stock of the situation, and remind ourselves, it means, Dad has Alzheimer's... and this, is perfectly normal, for him...

Photos, Digital Scrap Booking and highlights of Las Vegas...

I belong to a group of friends who enjoy Digital Scrap booking. It's like regular scrap booking, except it is all done digitally. All the supplies are kept filed in the computer, and the work is done in Photoshop Elements. That is where the challenge lies for me, learning Photoshop. I have 4.0 and 6.0 and I am the least experienced of our group.

One important aspect of digital scrap booking, is the taking of photographs. That is the fun part for me. I LOVE taking photos. Usually, the first day we are together, we go somewhere and take pictures and then the remainder of the weekend, we create digital pages with those photos.

We started the group July, 2008 and have had four different weekends, all here in Nevada, with the last one in California. Our first weekend (summer) and the second to the last in March (spring), we went to the Bellagio Conservatory and Botanical Gardens. Every Holiday, Chinese New Year, spring, summer and fall, over 140 expert horticulturists arrange gazebos, bridges, ponds, water features with fresh flowers and plants displayed with creativity and theatrical impact. Absolutely wonderful in sight and smell. and if you are in town, do not miss it!

Also, at the Bellagio are the Fountains of Bellagio. Check them out on line. Totally spectacular the way the music corresponds with the movements of the water, dancing on the water to the rhythm of the music.

I really liked this photo I took of the sky light ceiling of the Conservatory...

It reminds me of some old historic building, with so much charm. One would never imagine it could be found on the Las Vegas Strip.The fragrant aroma of all the flowers is powerful and seductive to the senses. It is a wonderful place to enjoy time with friends, alone, or with someone special. Don't forget the largest ( 27 feet tall) chocolate fountain in the world at Jean-Philippe Pastisserie, not far from the Conservatory.

Daffodils and California Poppies, for me, are the happiest of flowers and make me smile every time I gaze upon them.

The creativity of the horticulturists is almost unbelievable in the way they surpass the various exhibits...

This shows the reflections within an orb water feature in the middle of the floor, showing off the multicolored flowers and the sky light of the Conservatory.It's an amazing place to be with a camera...

I would like to persuade a couple of my girlfriends, and my sister, who are so talented, to do a blog, showcasing their work. Not only are they gifted photographers, but their pages capture the most precious and memorable moments.

They do the 12 x 12 size pages, where I think I prefer to do a book with 8 x 11 sized pages.

On this beautiful summer's day in July, we were blessed with the most incredible rainbow over the Bellagio fountains. These next two photos, show before the water fountains began and then after the music started, and the rainbow appeared...

Guess that is all for now... My stomach is telling me it is time to eat...

The gold in her hair and a life of prayer...

Mom went to see Dad today. She found him in his wheel chair, in the Rec room with his lunch sitting in front of him. Mom noticed everyone else had only one chicken burrito, but Dad had two. She cut them up for Dad, and he closed his eyes, opening his mouth like a baby bird, waiting for Mom to feed him. He polished off the burritos, beans, corn, a banana, vanilla ice creams and a big glass of milk. When Dad reached for his cup of coffee, Mom pulled two freshly baked cookies, still hot from the front lobby out of her purse. Dad asked Mom to tell the cook how good the food was.

When Dad had finished, Mom asked if he wanted anything else, and Dad said he would prefer more hanger space...then he went on a tangent about President Obama and how dangerous things were and how we all best be careful. Dad asked several times where the boys were, forgetting Mom told Dad they were working. She had to keep asking him to open his eyes so she knew he wanted to talk with her. With his eyes closed, Dad told Mom, The gold in her hair and a life of prayer...

Mom was exhausted because the nursing home is having it's parking lot repaved, so Mom had to park over two blocks away and walk over in the heat. Mom is no spring chicken at age 82, and the heat really does get to her.

My second to the oldest brother and his family just returned from vacation. My youngest brother and his girlfriend leave for Palm Springs this weekend. My second to the youngest brother is knee deep in on line classwork with two sick teenagers. Both Mom and my sister are working long hours and are miserable in the hot weather.

Now with the repaving going on...no one will be visiting until the beginning of next week. I have been trying to get hold of Dad's Psychiatrist since this past Monday. I called the office again today inquiring as to why I have not heard from the doctor. The receptionist told me, "It is our responsibility to give the message to the doctor, whether or not he calls is not within our control." Nice...

I want to find out if this continual closing of his eyes, and talking in such fragmented, non-related sentences, is normal for whichever stage of Dementia or Alzheimer's Dad is in. I'm just trying to get some answers. It sounds to me, from my family's reports, that Dad is being absorbed into his own little bubble. He told Mom he knows he has four sons, he just can't remember their names.

Today, Dad asked where the boys were, but said nothing about my sister and I. That's like a punch in the gut, despite knowing it is not Dad's fault and it is all about the disease. I have a sense that Dad is starting down that slippery path of no return.

The therapist told Mom Dad can feed himself, shaves with an electric shaver, picks out his clothes, but needs help dressing. She said she takes him to the shower room, but he can shower alone. Mom warned her how we are concerned about Dad falling. The therapist said there are bars in the shower and they keep a close eye on Dad.

Dad has his new glasses, but only wears them to read. He has taken to spontaneously singing. The therapist asked Dad to sing Amazing Grace. Dad got the first line correct, but made up the rest of it from various other hymns he knows or could remember. A fellow patient came over and complimented Dad on what a nice voice he had and how beautiful his hymn was.

When I call Dad, I can hear his voice, but we're really not visiting. He is talking non-stop, about things that make little sense. It is frustrating and heart breaking... The thought of Dad dwindling away mentally, sucks me in like a vacuum. What quality of life is that??

My sister and I spoke last night about Dad. She talked with a client friend of hers who also had a parent with Alzheimer's. She was telling him how difficult it is to visit when Dad communicates less and less, mostly rambles on about nothing pertaining to what we are trying to talk with him about. He highly suggested calling in Hospice.

I have suggested Hospice before. No one seems to feel the need now. As Mom said today, "If it ain't broke, don't fix it". She feels Dad is adjusted to his medication, taking his medication, not trying to escape, and seems happy where he is.

I don't like it. Just because he is eating well, does not mean he has quality of life. He could go on for years eating and being oblivious. I know this is the way it goes with this disease...but I still don't like it. I HATE IT!!

Doctors, Dentists, colonoscopies...OH MY!

Decided on the name Tang for this abstract watercolor I am working on... have not decided if I am finished or not.

Our day started at 5 am this morning. Had to take my hubby to the hospital for his scheduled colonoscopy. We got to the hospital at 6 am and his doctor was a half hour late, so he went in at 7:30 am. By 8:30 am, we were on our way to breakfast, relieved he passed with flying colors!

The past two weeks we have been running a marathon of various doctor, dentist, vision checks, procedures, blood tests, all for our annual physicals. We figured getting it all done at once was a good plan... Glad to be at the end of it. I have a blood test to check my genetically high cholesterol tomorrow. I am allergic to most of the medications my doctor has tried to give me. We are now working with fish oil...

If we don't get good results, I'll have no choice but to exercise... such a fate! I met a women in computer class the other day. She needed help with organizing photos, so I offered to help. We discovered we live close to one another, so we may become walking buddies. She invited me to Country Line Dancing up at the Rec Center. I used to line dance, and I LOVED it. I need to get my hindquarters off the computer chair, and get moving with some fun exercises.

Really need to catch up on my sleep. Been averaging 4 to 6 hours of sleep per night, and I am one who needs 8. Since I am fasting tonight, I think it would be wise to call it a night and hit the sheets...

Problems in Blog City...

Something is wrong with my blog...maybe I have been searching, trying out gadgets and then removing them too much?? Now I have no followers listed on my blog page, or the blogs I am following. Hopefully Blogger is working on it..because I sure can't figure out what happened!

Frustrated and ticked off so I am not in the mood to write...

Oh the changes are a comin'....

For years, every February, was my season for change. Something would happen that month with new insights, better perspectives, heightened intuition... New goals and dreams were written down in my journal. From somewhere in the Universe, or coming up through the ground, it was as real as my life.

Somewhere along the line, and I cannot tell you when, it either stopped, or I became lost in the shuffle of my life. I am here to tell you, it might be September, but, IT'S BACK!

Maybe it is the relief from my visit with the Orthopedist this morning. My slip and fall at the Casino, hurting my left shoulder on July 25th has still been bothering me. Pain slaps me hard on certain types range of motion. The doctor told me he thought it was only tendinitis and would be surprised if I tore my rotor cuff. He gave me a cortisone shot and will see me in six weeks. He told me to "take it easy" with my arm for two days, because it will be numb. My shoulder feels like my mouth did when I went to the dentist.

I floated out of his office feeling so thankful! It's like I woke up out of a coma or something. The sky looked bluer, the beautiful, distant mountains seemed closer, the weather was perfect with a slight, dancing breeze...

Maybe it is the weather cooling off. I can get back into my art studio in the garage, make a mess and paint. Listen to my iPod and be whisked away into a creative oblivion...

Maybe it is my sister coming to visit next month for 5 days...but the changes are a comin'...

Last night I fiddled with the blog and added some gadgets, but didn't like the advertising on it. I will have to keep searching and exploring, to get the look I want. Guess it will grow and mature as times goes by....

Started a watercolor today (didn't like it, so pulled out an unfinished one). Going to challenge myself to do a painting per day. Or start one per day... All this stimulus in my brain had me painting and attempting my blog...which means, getting involved with too many projects and end up with unfinished paintings I can't find!

I have to get to bed, it is way too late. Here is my watercolor abstract with a Chinese Tang horse emerging...

Relief for a frustrated firstborn daughter...

This morning, as I have repeatedly been attempting, for the last several days, I could not reach Dad. Either he was in rehab, the shower, the dining room for activities, in the dining room eating, or the nurses were dispensing medications and could I please call back later...Today, he was in the dining room playing Bingo. He HATES Bingo!

After seeing Dad's picture in my sister's email yesterday, it made me long to hear Dad's voice even more. I have not spoken with him since my husband and I visited him on September 9th. I felt so frustrated!

I called Mom. She had just returned from church, and was finishing her breakfast. She told me she planned to go visit Dad afterward. She offered to call me when she got there. She did, and it was wonderful to hear his tone of voice when he says my name. Now, I can relax, there is peace in the world. My lil' papa, saying my name....aaaaaaahhhhhh.

He sounded so cheerful and happy. He was still in the dining room, because there was a lot of background noise and it was hard to hear him. He told me he was enjoying looking outside at the umbrellas on the patio, how he had gotten up and worked with the boys... He told me he was so grateful for everything.

I have a monthly calendar of the nursing home activities, to help me know when to call. There is a nature walk planned today on the patio, and I asked if he was going. "You BETCHA!" was his answer. He said something about black widows, and I couldn't hear the rest of what he said, so I asked him to repeat it... He asked me, "Do you remember what we used to do with the black widows?" I told him I did, we used to "smash them". Still a bit off course, as to why he was asking about black widows, he said, "Yes, we would SWAK them!".

As he said that, visions of long ago memories flooded my head and I remembered us working in the garden together. He found a black widow, with her nest, behind some boards he had moved. He told me to stand back, and then flopped the board, nest up, onto the ground. Wearing his work boots, he stepped on the widow, twisting his foot to grind her into a quick death. Then smashed all the nests too. He washed off the board and told me how careful I had to be when working in the yard or around stacked things. He told me to always shake out my garden gloves before putting them on my hands because spiders lurk in dark places. I have always heeded his words, and took it one step further. I either fold them over and clasp with a clothes pin or seal them in plastic bags.

Changing the subject, I ask Dad if he was having lunch. I could hear Mom ask Dad if he could move closer. I heard Dad say, "WOW!!". I know that comment, it means food has arrived!

Despite the arrival of his food, and no doubt his mouth watering with both his hands up and at the ready, he told me he loved me... and that will make my day complete!

Now I can go to the 30th Annual St. Gennaro Fest Festival in Little Italy, Las Vegas with my husband and enjoy the day. Ti amo, Papa...

He heard your voices in his life time...

Got my sister's email this evening. She and my second to youngest brother went together to visit Dad. They brought him a pizza supreme, bread sticks and sauce. Dad thought it was his birthday! He turns 89 on November 5th. Dad was very happy and excited. He chowed down while closing his eyes in ecstasy...

Each person condemned with his disease, is a unique story. My mother-in-law never talked gibberish like Dad does. Her personality changed more drastically. Normally, she was funny, cheerful and outgoing, with an obsessive-compulsive, cleaning quirk. She was an impeccable dresser, always stylishly accessorized with matching jewelry and purse. She became indifferent to hygiene and wore the same clothes day and night. When I would gently suggest we change her outfit, she would indignantly inform me she had just washed and ironed her outfit that morning!

Later, she would walk in her "merry walker" and purposely bang into other patients, spewing cuss words that would make a sailor blush. I can remember wheeling her down the hallway, one hand on the wheelchair handle bars, and the other hand over her mouth!

She was very social, always having something to say and would argue with us if she disagreed or did not like what we were doing. After her final move, she really slowed down. She began falling quite often, and the doctor wanted to find out why. Looking back, we learned we would never allow such a test to be done on an A/D patient again.. She could not remember to hold still during a CT Scan and had to be over-medicated. She was never the same after that, and not too long afterward, withdrew totally, and barely spoke at all.

Dad has always been a man of few words, yet now, he will talk your ear off, to the point you cannot get a word in edgewise. Such was the case today with my sister and brother, as Dad began spinning words from his carousel brain...

We have all resolved to write down what Dad says, despite it not making any sense. Today, Dad was fixated on the word, natural. He must have repeated it at least 20 times, my sister said. Dad would highlight almost every sentence with that word.

They checked and Dad's glasses were beside his bed in a leather pouch, labeled with his name. She said Dad's name did not appear to be engraved on his glasses, as the social worker had told me. She took a picture of Dad in his glasses. The new ones look exactly like his old ones. Let's hope he doesn't give these away...

They moved my painting to his closet door, from beside his bed, where I had hung it. Also on the closet door, are two photographs of each of my grandsons, (Dad's great grandsons) and a picture they had drawn for him. After they hung it, Dad commented by saying, "Beautiful colors".

It was clear from her email, that Dad seems to more confused as to the details of our family. He told my sister and brother, he had two sons and two lovely ladies. Dad and Mom had five sons (one died shortly after birth) and two daughters. Dad mentioned my second to the youngest brother, who is single with two sons, got married and had a daughter...

Other comments by Dad:

"Where we are now with the fact that this cold be a long time on the natural thing. The beauty of using your birthday, is a natural thing."

"It is a blessing wanting to keep in touch. Beautiful people taking statistics for centuries."

"Wake up on your birthday and see your son and daughter on the statistics. It is a personal thing. Be in control and the good Lord will guide my words."

"Trying to find out where in history have we landed because it is very obvious performance over a lifetime. Seems like it is going to be because of the natural control. Really that simple on my birthday."

"The family is fine. Everything is working out in a wonderful way."

"One thing to look at is the natural way. Going to Vegas and having fun. That's a luxury!"

"My life is at the point, where how much time do we have for a challenge...this is so natural."

Dad pointed to the photographs of his two great grandsons and said, "I have to be accountable for my life. My grandsons sitting up there. No question, that is my birthday present. And you are both involved in the natural way."

Dad broke out in song and sang this song to them...happily smiling while he sang:

"If you let the smile take visions,
that come to life in a natural way,
it's a blessing to saaaaay,
watch the pictures and don't forget to pray."

As they took turns, taking notes, Dad would call it statistics. One of the things they wrote down, was Dad saying, "Heard your voices in my life time, reviewing the spin." For me, that says it all to me. Our voices must be familiar and stir some memory within him. The "spin" reminds me of the word carousel, spinning around in his brain. Not that anyone can make sense or comprehend why he says what he says... I guess I am still trying in vain to connect to him and understand....

Both my brother and sister felt Dad looked good. His skin is smooth with a clean shaved face. It looks like the skin care nurse is putting maybe some vitamin E oil on his face. Dad was happy and cheerful. Dad asked my brother when he would be back, and seemed sad when they were leaving. Dinner was coming in 15 minutes, yet Dad declared, "I'd like to have lunch"...

My inter sanctum of creativity...

This week has been so busy. Every day a doctor, dental or eye exam. Errands to run, people to see, appointments to keep, laundry and cleaning. Bug sprayers, landscapers, adjusting the watering times. Run, run, run...rush, rush, rush.

When Dad was first diagnosed, and in the hospital, having such a difficult time, all my "daily and weekly duties" came to a screeching halt. Guess now, that Dad is more at peace, more calm and resolved to living in the nursing home, we can take a collective sigh, and get back on track...

Because I am Blessed to be retired, having a week of scheduled appointments, really tweaks my tolerance, and encroaches upon my naps. I've grown accustom to puttering, contemplation (of my navel, as Mom calls it) and keeping my own rhythm during the course of a day.

Often, that rhythm is not productive enough...but when I am committed to a schedule, all of a sudden, I am motivated to write, to paint, or explore with my camera... This blog has been wonderful company and therapy for me. It is not a burden, as I thought it would be. Instead, it is the anticipation of sitting down with a close friend, enjoying a cup of tea.

Visiting the various artist's and writer's blogs, inspires me, lifts me up, and invites me to dance... Some how, I have stumbled into this wonderful world of fellow blogger folks, who form this wide, ever-stretching, group hug of support. Its like being part of a giant compass pointing in the right direction...

I long for my garage studio to cool down, so the stifling heat won't bake the creativity from my brain. It's starting to cool down a bit at night, so I could roll up the garage door and flip on my Ott light...

Those unfinished paintings are whispering to me, beckoning to me to bring each one to life.
Often, late at night, or in the wee hours of the morn...when all is still and quiet. Then, as in my childhood, I feel swept away into a mystical journey...

If feels so good, when that inspiration, excitement, motivation, all well up inside me as if it will overflow and carry me away. I LOVE that feeling! When I am painting or writing, I feel transported to another dimension. Cocooned inside a magical kind of time warp. Usually the music, which is always playing when the brushes come out, flows through my soul, down my arms into my fingers, out my hands, onto the paper, entrancing me into my inter sanctum of creativity...

A love for the ocean...

My Dad taught us to love the ocean. He would go out into the surf and swim like a dolphin. Dad could float on his back like an otter. We would build sandcastles with moats. We'd dig big holes to China. Dad used to teach us, "Never turn your back on the ocean"...

One day I was not paying attention and almost lost my breath, as a big, cold, wave hit me from behind. I was so thin as a child, it was difficult to get up on my feet. Dad rushed to my aid and brought me back on dry sand.

Dad never was one to say, I told you so...

It wasn't his style to call me out in front of my family and yell at me for not paying attention. Dad had respect for our individual dignity. The last thing I wanted to do, was disappoint him. It was just easier to confess, to admit I had not listened and turned my back to the ocean.

Dad lead by example and was good at forgiveness. Even today, when I go to the beach, I can hear his voice. The beach takes me back to my childhood and rejuvenates me.

I remember one family expedition to the beach... Dad drove us all down to the beach in our family car, a black VW bug. My brothers could tell you what year the bug was, but it was before seat belts. Mom and Dad in the front, my two brothers, my sister and myself in the back, with the two youngest brothers in the
little pocket in the very back.

We used to make people stop and stare at church

when we would pile 8 people out of that VW bug.

I never understood why Mom wasted her time

ironing our clothes, when we would pack ourselves

like sardines into that car!

It would be a typical, hot, sweaty, summer and Dad would drive up and down the parking lot looking for a parking place. We rode down to the beach in our suits because it was so dang hot. We would all yell and point to open spots to park the car... but, Dad would drive right by... It was always a mystery why he would be so particular about where he parked.

Or maybe he knew if he kept us good and toasty in the car, when we finally got out on open sand, we would be so happy and have so much more fun. The brothers loved to bury us in the sand and stick our flip flops in the hump of sand covering our bodies, where our stomachs were, making us look much shorter. We thought that was hilarious!!

I called the nursing home today to try to talk with Dad, but it was one of those days where he was getting his meds, taking a shower, or asleep. I didn't get to talk with him. I found out from the social worker Dad's bifocals finally came in, and she had given them to Dad this past Tuesday. Neither Mom nor my youngest brother mentioned Dad wearing his glasses, so I wanted to check if Dad, still had them. When I called later tonight, I reached one of my favorite male nurses for Dad. He was kind enough to go check, returning to tell me Dad's glasses were on his bed stand and he was asleep.

The nurse and I chatted for awhile. He told me Dad seems stronger and is walking more. He told me he had seen Dad earlier, walking in the halls singing...

High noon and magnets...

While waiting for my eyes to "re-focus" from having them dilated earlier, my youngest brother called me. He had just finished his visit with Dad and was on his way home. He took two McDonald's Fish Fillet sandwiches, fries and two chocolate shakes for he and Dad to enjoy together.

He said he looked all over for Dad; in the Rec room, the Rehab room, his room, the bathroom, the hallway, and no Dad. He walked out to the patio to find Dad, without his wheel chair, dressed in pajama bottoms, tee-shirt with those black Nike Air Jordan's (none of us know where he got them) trying to fix the net on a child's sized basketball hoop.

My brother got a good chuckle, because it is so typical of Dad. We never knew what he would pull out of his hat next... Just when we get used to him using a wheel chair, he rises back up and shows the strong will we love so much in him. My brother was happy to get a full body hug, since Dad is usually sitting in his wheel chair or bed.

Dad gave him a huge, big, smile when he saw the lunch my brother brought for them to share. Dad may have been eating McDonald's fish fillet, but he was telling his son how good his In and Out burger was.

Dad talked a lot about magnets and it being high noon. Dad was discussing marriage and told my brother, he had enjoyed my brother's wedding. My brother corrected him, and told Dad, "not yet", but brought up Dad's grandson's recent wedding and that brought up happy times for Dad. It was the last family outing we had all had together before Dad went into the hospital in early June.

Briefly Dad mentioned the Lord is good and dangerous, and lovingly, his son re-directed him to remember that God is always good. He took Dad back over to the basketball hoop and showed Dad how to fix the net. He said if they had a ball, he really felt Dad was ready to play a game against Michael Jordon!

It was warm outside, so my brother linked arms with Dad and walked him back to his room. When he turned on the TV for Dad, Dad started warning him of the TV being dangerous, so he turned it off. Dad had more to say about magnets, high noon, board games and marriage.

My brother asked Dad if they could say a prayer together. That seemed to really calm Dad down as they joined hands and prayed. He asked Dad for a "whisker rub" and Dad got wide-eyed, and looking very alert, said, "Whisky??" Again, my brother had another good laugh, but came closer and showed Dad his intended whisker rub. Dad laughed, hugged him back and held him close, rubbing his back.

Dad warned his son about it being high noon and the importance of magnets. He told Dad how much he loved him, that it was time for him to get on the road. Dad returned his love for his son, and waved him good bye. When my brother turned to look back at Dad, he had already closed his eyes. I can't help but wonder if Dad closes his eyes because he doesn't want to see us leave...

Today, I received the DVD my sister made for Dad. She did a wonderful job the way she timed the family photos with Bryan Adam's version of When You Love Someone. Our family has some Irish heritage and the beginning of the song, it sounds like Irish music. I immediately started crying when I saw Dad, back when he was living at home. If I stop and think back, it always makes me cry, because I miss having him home. I miss Dad and the way it used to be...

The morning is electric...

Mom visited Dad this afternoon after she got off work and went to her support group. She found him sitting in the Bingo room, in his wheel chair with his eyes closed. When she greeted him, he opened his eyes and told her "Good morning". Every time I visit Dad, he feels it is morning time.

Mom gave him a kiss, a cookie and some juice. Shortly afterward, he began his carousel of thoughts...

"I am going to show the Lord. Mr. Obama is in charge of this day. We get blessings and we are in China on a yacht." (Dad always had an extensive and creative imagination)

"Look down at the past and from now on we'll look at TV and love sharing love. We have spoken to the Boys and Donna. Jesus is going to keep me shaving with the Boys." (I think he means he enjoys giving all the Boys "whisker rubs" in lieu of a kiss. It is the way his Father showed affection to him. This is something Dad never did prior to becoming ill.)

"There will be a celebration and don't forget the mayonnaise. I'm hungry. Time for beautiful women. They cut us off at noon. So easy if the Boys will celebrate today too. The boys have to dress a certain way. If I get something good to eat, I am happy. The Boys are here, so let's celebrate." (Dad loves it when the Boys visit and bring him good food. They used to take him out to their favorite eateries and "hook him up". I think Dad has lost the ability to recognize being full, and forgets when he has eaten. My Mother-in-Law did the same thing.)

"I'm looking down at centuries. I could be in Africa. If I didn't take my life seriously, it doesn't matter. Donna, L_____(Mom), wherever you are. Our time is very short if we look at the time. Look at the ghost. If they cut that artery in half, it is a DANGEROUS day. If we love the Lord's life, it is mixed up with these women. I am so blessed with the Boys and noon is coming up. There is a good message under the glass. B____ is so beautiful." (One of his church's female Pastors who visits and administers with Dad.)

"Everything is taken care of for Donna, me and you. We're actually looking at history. This could change tomorrow. We are trying to split 3/4's of the day. We could be anywhere in the world. Must be in the frame of mind to accept Christ and this beautiful woman. I see you're working that in a wonderful way. How you feel when I was home, I could be anywhere in the world, it doesn't take much."

"The morning becomes electric..." (Dad had a big smile on his face) The morning becomes electric. That's the way it is. This could happen tomorrow. Come on Boys, let's go to lunch, I'm hungry! How about you?"

This may sound weird, but I find Dad's carousel of thoughts fascinating. I keep thinking his CT Scan showed his brain was so atrophied, the doctors were blown away that he could even talk! I remember Dad's intelligence and the wonderful stories he told us as children. I think of what I have read in books how the brain is a network, connected by neutrons, interacting with all that was learned in the brain. With A/D, those neutrons basically burn out or short circuit, so it no longer has the connection within the network. For me, the way Dad speaks, illustrates that.

I am so grateful that he still recognizes us, or senses we are special to him. At times, he acts like he is confused either with our name or knowing we look familiar, but not exactly sure.

Today, my sister emailed me and told me, by my posting some of my art, it gave her comfort, in a way, that Dad is more at peace and we all are in a pretty good place...

I had such an emotional connection to Dad saying, "The morning is electric". For me, it means the beauty and glory of another sunrise, thanking God for one more day to love one another...

Excuse me, while I experiment, and bare my soul...

I fiddled with my settings on my blog, so if it looks different, this is why. I tried to add some pics of some of my paintings and colored pencil drawings, the other day, but my settings would only allow the pictures to be inserted at the top. This updated version allows me to insert them where ever I want... so I will try it tonight...

This is a shot I took out the window as we were driving home on Sunday. Clouds are a constant source of inspiration for me.

Looking into that beautiful sky, I can't help think of Patrick Swayze. What a sad day to lose such a nice, down to earth man. I have enjoyed so many of his movies. He seemed very comfortable in his own skin.

I think every person on the planet enjoyed him in Dirty Dancing and Ghost. I always admired his love for his wife. Their marriage was certainly not the norm in Hollywood. Rest in peace, Patrick.

I had a few encouragements from fellow bloggers to put some more of my art work on my blog. Kind of nervous, compared to so many I have seen, but what the heck... Excuse me, while I bare my soul...

Here is an acrylic I did back in 1988. I was happy with the ocean, but would like to re-work the rock...

If any of you fellow artists have any suggestions, I would welcome your critiques. Using acrylics, I used to delude myself into thinking I could actually control the brush and make something look exactly like what I was attempting to capture.

I would frustrate myself to the point I would stop painting. I thought if I could not capture, exactly what I saw in my mind's eye, then I was a lousy artist.

A couple years ago, I decided to take some water color classes. Both my teachers told me, "If you want your painting to look perfect, take up photography."

Being the anal control freak I was, eventually, it was liberating (once I got over the cold sweats and tantrums) to allow the process of the medium and my own interpretation to flow together as one. I still have issues and unfinished paintings, but I am working on it...

Winter Walk is the first watercolor I finished. (There is a boy wearing a red jacket walking his dog, in the distance.) Normally, when it was time to turn in our paintings, I would boldly announce I didn't like it so I didn't finish it. As a Christmas gift, my teacher framed it for me.

Another teacher taught us to never throw away unfinished paintings. She told us to put them away and "let them cook". The other day, when I did the abstract for my Dad, I was inspired to finish another abstract I had not finished. I had seen a Tang Chinese horse head in it, and Dad would have loved the colors in it... But, I had put them away so well, I forgot where I put them! Today, while standing in my garage studio, staring off into space trying to remember why I had come into the garage...I suddenly focused the clear art tote hanging over my easel, AND THERE THEY WERE!

One more picture and then I have to hit the sack...I have a dental appointment tomorrow.

Here is my first, finished, colored pencil drawing I did with the help of a very talented teacher, artist and now, dear friend.

I did a Big Horn Ram, because I am most motivated doing landscapes and wild life. I call this one, Something in the Wind.


This teacher is amazing. Her artwork does look like a photograph! The accuracy is amazing and most of her students had never even drawn before.

I have found, facing my fears and challenging myself, always gives me such an opportunity to learn, and enjoy painting more. Through her class, I learned so much, but a lot on shading and color.

One more picture... All my life I have loved horses.

I could never draw them well. After the colored pencil class, while visiting friends in Idaho, their daughter (who also loves horses) asked me to draw a particular black stallion on her calendar.

She provided me with some typing paper and a number two writing pencil. Some where between my desire to please this young girl, and the colored pencil class, I finally drew a horse I was pleased with.

Well, I did not get this posted before midnight, so I am a day behind now... Another feature of the updated post setting, is it published the actual time I finished posting instead of when I started it.

Here I sit, my fingers hovering over the publish post button, wondering if I should just delete the whole thing... Then again, like the book says, Face Your Fears, And Do It Anyway....

We have to live with what we have...

My sister made a DVD for Dad with all our pictures, labeling our names underneath and set to the song When You Love Someone by Bryan Adams. She took it to Dad today when she went to visit him. She brought him a Pomegranate/berry smoothie and an order of churros. Before she could insert the DVD in the player on his TV, and push play, he had polished off the churros.

He watched it with my sister observing Dad while he watched the DVD. She said the only two comments he made were "Aaaahhhhhhhh" when he saw my two grandsons, and when he saw my youngest daughter's picture, he said her name. One never knows when the carousel of thoughts and words inside Dad's brain, will stop and what will come out of his mouth...

Dad talked and my sister dutifully listened. She felt he was focused on "C" words, like, centuries, continued, carried forth, competition, constant and costs, to name a few. He also mentioned the word mayonnaise, out of context, three times. All the while Dad spoke to her, he kept his eyes closed. We think that means he is concentrating.

My sister wrote down some of his rambling statements:

"Depends on all of us to look at it under the eye. It is truly remarkable. Mom and I can see it in the boys. The Holy Spirit showing magnification of where people have worked so hard."

"You have to live with what you have."

"The on-going thing today is like any other day. We will have to take it as it is. Holy and natural. We will not bend over for the costs. The situation now is when we can smell the stink. It isn't going to change. We have something to live up to in millions of years of costs. Universal means centuries".

"I love it when the Dodgers win" (a big smile followed as he watched the Angels on the TV)
"Trying to keep up with the Angels."

"Mom and I are wealthy".

No doubt, his last statement, relates to our family. We are so Blessed to have the family we do.

My sister and I wondered if while in Rehab, the techs show Dad words beginning with "C". Maybe he fixates on sounds, or words he heard on the TV during the day...it is very difficult to figure it all out...

Dad was never a man who liked to talk to hear himself speak. He always had a purpose and a reason when he decided to speak with us. When he speaks to me and does not make sense, I let my mind go back in time, and remember the wisdom he taught us or the conversations we had.

My sister summed up her visit by saying she, for some crazy reason, was comforted that Dad no longer discusses going home, getting out, not wanting to take his medication, or negative comments about the staff. She thought he felt content and relaxed.

She stared at him for a long period while he faced her with his eyes closed, and she realized he is going to be 89 in two months. Dad does not have any wrinkles on his face. His skin looks and feels very smooth. Dad seemed so peaceful and she was grateful for the pleasant visit.

She is going to mail each of us our copy of the video she made for Dad, (minus the labeling of who is who). I look forward to getting in the mail and watching it, over, and over...

Perspectives during difficult times...

I talked with Mom last night about her visit with Dad yesterday. She sent an email telling us "it was a bad one". The majority of Mom's visits, in her estimation, are always bad. Personally, I think it is too difficult for Mom to see Dad in his current state. They had 64 years together and it is just really hard on her...

Their relationship was far from perfect, but the dynamics between Mom and Dad were custom made by the two of them. When Dad insisted she was with him at physical therapy yesterday, instead of agreeing with him, Mom challenged Dad by telling him she was not there.

Dad was agitated about "the horrible TV programs, they forced him to watch". Did he possibly see video footage of 911? Did he watch those planes slamming into the Twin Towers?? I know I did. It was all over the television yesterday. Dad is very sensitive. Even the other day, when my husband and I were visiting, Dad was agitated with a stupid sitcom on his television. He kept closing his eyes, probably trying to tune it out. Any form of negativity or put down gets an emotional reaction from Dad. That is just how he is wired.

I had tried to get one of Dad's nurses to find KCET, the public channel, so Dad could watch Hewell Howser. He does a travel & history program, where he visits various cities in California with some interesting aspect from Howser's point of view. Dad LOVES that show.

The other day, a kind nurse read my blog and offered the suggestion of dementia patients enjoying the Animal Planet. I think Dad would enjoy that program, as long as it did not show any abuse to animals. Like I said, he is very sensitive and hates any type of abuse, to man or beast.

Mom was frustrated with Dad for being so aggravated. He had used his clenched-teeth-howl, yelling, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! at the top of his voice. When Dad refuses to do something or feels threatened or back into a corner, that is his protest and his way of standing his ground. Dad was upset because Mom wasn't believing what he told her.

Mom has a very difficult time not taking what Dad says or does personally. Dad is like my 4 year old grandson. He announces every time he has to go to the bathroom, like it is an important public service announcement. I can't blame her. I cannot even imagine what it must be like for her. To know the Marine hero she married, who has now become this child-man, has to be gut wrenching. Yet, she continues to be his faithful visitor.

Each of us, as his children, have unconditional love for Dad. We each deal with it differently, but we reluctantly deal with what we must. I think it is different for spouses. Couples promise, for better or worse, only no one really thinks about how bad it could be...

Both Mom and Dad raised us to go for the gusto. We may not have had a lot of money, but we knew what we liked, and didn't like. Mom would always instruct us to write a letter of compliment or complaint and stand up for what we believe in. She taught us our opinions mattered. Dad always taught us if we were not going to do our best, there was no sense in even trying. He showed us integrity and being true to oneself, had nothing to do with money.

Mom has always been outspoken, and not a woman to hold her tongue. She has a brain and she uses it often. For over the past thirty years, since Dad retired, Mom has supported them. Most of their marriage Mom carried more than her share. I have no doubt God had her life all mapped out, knowing this difficult road she would have to travel.

Her ability to hold her own, would be sorely lacking had their roles been reversed. She would not have learned to be as strong and independent as she is. I know this disease, that is slowing claiming her husband, our Father, has to be one of her biggest challenges...

Our last day in California...9-11-2009.

Today is our last day of our California house hunting expedition. We slept in at our hotel and had a nice breakfast at Mimi's Cafe in Rancho Mirage. We met our Realtor at noon and roasted in the humidity and 111 degree heat looking at properties. I think today, pretty much made up our minds, that Palm Springs, or any of the immediate surrounding area, is NOT where we want to live.

We looked in Beaumont, Cherry Valley and Hemet. We might look again in these areas, because we did see some possibilities that we might want to investigate...

Tomorrow we leave to return home to Nevada.

We have had two days of Internet connection problems, so I have gotten behind in my blog. The heat of the day will not subside this evening. We both feel it is much hotter here than in Nevada. We made a quick stop at Vons to pick up more water and some snacks. We basically took refuge in the air conditioning in our room, rather than venture out into the heat any more today.

We've been watching and remembering the American tragedy that happened eight years ago today. It almost seems sacrilegious to do much of anything on such a day...

Wednesday, 9-9-09, was a good day...

My husband and I went to visit Dad at the nursing home this afternoon. When we arrived, the nurses greeted us and told us he was in the shower. We had a chance to visit with them and hear the great reports on how well Dad is adjusting. He is cooperating, taking his meds, not trying to escape and his appetite is so good, he has gained 9 pounds!

I turned to look toward his room, to see Dad rounding the corner in his wheel chair, with the CNA pushing him down the hall toward us. Dad looked wide awake. Still no glasses, but as I approached him, he greeted me saying, "This is my daughter". I kissed him hello and then he spotted my husband. He reached out for him and they shook hands. Dad had a big, huge, smile on his face. He is very fond of my husband and he was visibly excited to see us both. Dad asked if we could go outside.

We had brought him a strawberry shake and some churros from Jack n the Box, so he was very anxious to get his hands on it as soon as we parked ourselves on the patio. He told us we had perfect timing. Dad didn't make much sense when he talked. His words came out all jumbled, but his inflections were the same, his voice, and his smile. We just sat and listened, commenting like it all made perfect sense.

I called my brother who lives in Ohio, hoping to reach him, and I did! He was in the process of barbecuing some steaks. He and Dad chatted for about 20 minutes and my brother made Dad laugh good and hard. It was bittersweet to sit and watch Dad's facial expressions while talking with his son. We enjoyed Dad's big smile, recalling the memories my brother was relating to him.

They were discussing a golf game they had shared. Then Dad remembered playing golf in Hawaii during the War. He told my brother he shanked a shot and hit a ball into a stout man's belly. My brother recalled Dad allowing him to tee off a golf ball on the beach into the surf. Something my brother had wanted to do for a long time...

My brother thanked Dad for always being there for him and for always having a fresh pot of coffee on whenever he came home. My brother reminded Dad, of his great "krautchies" sandwich he used to make. He would put the meat from a pork chop, or sliced, fried hot dog with sauerkraut and cheese....he could really invent some GREAT sandwich combos!

After his phone call, we wheeled Dad back to his room and showed him the painting I had done for him. He LOVED it and commented on the colors. I hung it right under his activity calendar so he can see it when he turns on his side to go to sleep.

The CNA came around offering fresh watermelon chunks. Dad scarfed his down so fast, I gave him mine as well. He looked tired and kept closing his eyes, so we told him we would let him get some rest and would see him soon.

That night, all three of my brothers, my sister, Mom, my husband and I met at the Tenderloin in La Verne for dinner. We had a great time and enjoyed a delicious dinner! That stockyard steak is absolutely OUT OF THIS WORLD!!! We did what we always do, laughed and teased and had a great time for over 3 hours. Everyone was so full, and were going to turn down the dessert menu, until my sister reminded everyone my husband's 70th birthday was the end of the month...

We HAD to have dessert then! It was a great time... After leaving the restaurant, we stood in the parking lot for another half hour saying goodbye. Being with my family, always re-charges my batteries, and makes for a good day...

Oh, the company of little boys...

We arrived at our eldest daughter's home around noon. We made a stop in Barstow for a bathroom break and breakfast. Shortly after we arrived, my grandsons, (ages 4 and 7) had me entrenched in video games, basketball, computer games, and non-stop discussions on Lego Star Wars , Lego Indiana Jones Space Police, Lego Pirates, and Lego Sponge Bob Squarepants.

We spent several hours alternating between my iTouch and my lap top playing various games I had downloaded for them. They love their Grandma, but those electronic devices sure come a close second!

No doubt we will be playing The Game of Life tonight or tomorrow. My daughter and I found the game at a yard sale when both my daughters came out to see us the end of July. The boys just love it! Whenever they want to play it, they ask their Mom..."Hey Mom, can we have some family fun time and play the Game of Life?"

We just finished a delicious chicken, pasta salad and watermelon dinner. I brought a DVD I had found of a collection of my amateur videotaping of the family. We all watched the oldest grandson's two year old birthday party at the park, which my Dad (Lil' Papa) and Mom (Granny) attended, some footage of our old house in Highland, and Christmas, 2004. Good times, good times..... as my grandson always says...

The boys are working on drawings for Lil' Papa so we can deliver them when we see him on Wednesday. The boys are brushing their teeth, getting ready for bed... well, I take that back, they just discovered I was on my lap top...

Twilight Time and Pizza...

I painted a watercolor for Dad tonight. I'm calling it Twilight Time. I just wanted to put down some of Dad's favorite colors, just an abstract for him to enjoy the color and mood. After I felt it was done, I looked at it from different perspectives, and saw what looked like a girl sleeping. Dad always enjoyed my paintings and even when it was suppose to be something, he would see a whole new painting within it.

While I was painting, my sister called and said she and my second to the youngest brother had just finished a great visit with Dad. They brought Dad his pizza! Boy was THAT a hit!! He looked handsome in his blue shirt and jeans. Blue is his favorite color. They felt he was more present this visit and really enjoyed their visit with him. His TV is hooked up now and he was watching the Angel game.

Mom went to see Dad just after lunch. She brought him his almonds and some Doritos. He was happy to see her and she said they had a normal conversation for a short time, before Dad began telling her the TV was announcing his name several times a day. She was surprised to hear Dad enjoys watching Oprah now.

The nurses had nothing but praise reports for Dad, on how good he is and how handsome he looks today. I am so relieved Dad is more relaxed instead of stressed and tormented. My sister told me Dad is excited my husband and I are coming to see him. He really cares for my husband, so I know Dad will be so happy to see him.

Better finish my packing. We plan to leave around 6am....California, here we come....

Not much going on...

Worked in the yard and trimmed the roses and bay leaf bush. Trained and trimmed the Pyracanthas on the fence. Did all the laundry in preparation for our trip. Worked on the computer and could hardly keep my eyes open, so I took a four hour nap. Love those naps.

My husband's friend came into town and they met at our local Grill hang out. His friend plays video poker and just won $1600. Last time he was here, he won over $5000! He is taking us to dinner.

Loaded a box with books for Mom and empty prescription bottles (from Dad's shredding) for my sister to use for mini emergency kits. My eldest daughter called and needs magazines for my grandson in Kindergarten. He has to decorate the letter "P". Think I will bring a bunch of my cooking magazines...

Tried to call Dad and nurse was delivering medications and told me to call back...

Brutus the ten cent dog...

My Dad loves animals and animals love him. His gentle ways tamed the craziest of our pets. I can see, in my mind's eye, the parade of dogs, cats and birds that shared our home through the years.

His last dog was Brutus. My second to the oldest brother brought Brutus home after winning him by playing a ten cent Carnival game. He was a funny looking dog. His body was shaped like a Dachshund only imagine a really old one with long, wiry-gray-Einstein-type fur. His face looked like a cross between a Schnauzer and a Rat Terrier on a bad hair day. He had huge brown eyes, stubby, stocky legs with white socks and a pathetically scrawny tail.

Brutus followed Dad everywhere. They were inseparable. Dad would putter in the garage or be working in the yard, and there was Brutus, next to Dad, adoringly wagging his tail. Dad would discuss inventions and mathematical equations as if Brutus was his assistant.

Every night they took a walk down the gully. When they returned, we couldn't tell which one of them had the better time. The dog had endless patience, just like Dad. We would prop Brutus up in the red easy chair (for a good background color) and pose him in various outfits and different hats.

Brutus was tolerant. So many animals came and went and he welcomed them all. Funny how animals adapt to us and almost become like us. I look back and smile with all those wonderful memories. To us, he was the 10 cent dog, but to Dad, he was worth a million...

Second Care Conference for Dad...

We had a powerful rain storm with major thunder today in Nevada. As I sat at my PC typing, I about jumped out of my chair, with those loud BOOMS of thunder! Typically, it pours and rages and then it is all over within an hour or so...I do miss those rainy California days, when it rained all day long...

I spent most of the day researching the MLS listings our California Realtor sent me. Up until 2 days ago, we did not know if my husband would still have a job by this December. We leave for vacation this weekend but still plan to check out some properties in California. Despite California's problems, we are starting to feel drawn to return...

Today was Dad's second Care Conference. Mom attended in person and I sat in over the speaker phone.

Dad is walking with a front wheeled walker or using a wheel chair. Its all about balance and safety now. He is compliant and co-operative with his rehab. I know it is difficult for him and wears him out.

He is enjoying his regular diet, being able to eat whatever and whenever he wants. He weighs 122 pounds now, so he has put on weight.

His bifocals have still not arrived. The glasses are made in the prisons now, and since they have closed down a couple, it is taking longer. The inmates will engrave Dad's name on the ear arms, so hopefully they will not be stolen, like he other ones. My sister discovered last night, his reading glasses are missing. No doubt the work of the lady thief who my sister caught trying to take Dad's shoes.

I shouldn't really call her a thief, in the true sense of the word, because she is ill, this disease makes personalities change... but still, that doesn't help Dad.

They read the litany of Dad's health issues, and then the endless list of his medications. They reviewed the results of previous blood tests and x-rays when both Dad's hands were swollen.

They told us not to worry about Dad remaining on the long term ward, as he is already there, and he is not trying to escape.

What a relief, because we really appreciate all the care they give. This facility only takes Medicare/Medi-Cal/private pay. One would think it is for the rich and famous the way they treat Dad. Several of his nurses and CNA's care for him as if he were their Father.

Thank you Lord for all your many Blessings...

Bonus points for pizza....

Guys,

I had a nice visit with Pops today.

I greeted him with a hug, fish sandwich, vanilla shake. He destroyed them within minutes.

He was sitting in his wheel chair in the big TV room with about ten others. We all watched "Punked" for about an hour. We had some small chats during the commercials. Some of the folks were laughing, some were building puzzles, some were staring off into space and some were making strange noises.

Pops told me more than once how happy he was I was there. I told him it was good to be there too.

It reminded me of the movie Cocoon, or the Twilight Zone episode of "Kick the Can" with all the old folks. I asked Pops if he had seen the movie; and he told me he had. I asked if he remembered what it was about. He told me "how much he loves pizza". I just shook my head... If anyone wants to hit a home run with Dad, he is craving pizza BIG TIME!! We saw a commercial for Digiorno's Pizza and looked at it and said, "Wow, that makes me hungry...mmmmmm!!!"

He seemed like he was doing OK...

We ended our visit with a whisker rub, a hug and I love you.

love,

E____