Natural Progression

Two weeks ago our youngest grandson turned two. He is no longer my baby boy, now he is my big boy. Each day he adds a new word to his vocabulary. Each day he is more able to do some small thing he couldn't do before. That is the natural progression of things. Right after his birthday I had my annual physical. The doctor and I discussed why I am not quite as able to do everything in the same way I could before. He says it is the natural progression of things. And so it goes with Dad.

Alzheimer's has a progression. There are 7 stages and a patient goes from one to another. It is not a smooth progression. Different patients hit different symptoms at different times. Some skip some symptoms while others have more. It is not a very orderly disease. There is only one real thing to count on. That is that there will be an observable natural progression of decline with intermittent blips in the sunshine. When Dad first came to us we had those sunshine days about 4 of 7. Today, two years later, it is sunshine moments, not days. While there is no smoothness to his decline, it has been steadily downward. That is the natural progression.

We have been able to observe this decline since November 2005. It has now been two full years that Dad has lived with us. When he came we had anticipated 2 months, then a few months, then a year (maybe), but it has extended itself. Our little girl who was a junior in high school has graduated and is getting married in a month. Our grandson who lives in town was a week old. Now he is two and expecting a baby sister in a month. I had just added a second full time job that was supposed to last for 12 months, now after a one year extension they are offering me another 2 year extension. A lot happens in two years. Life moves on in many ways. One thing has dominated it all for those two years. Dad.

We have watched his steady decline, the natural progression of things for him. For the first time in two years we took a respite weekend this past weekend. It was wonderful. My bride and I sort of made a pact. NO talk of Dad for two whole days. That was great. Now we are back and back into the routine. (He stayed here and our son came and took care of him while we left.) What does tomorrow hold for Dad? More decline, the natural progression of things. But in it all there will be some smiles, some moments of sunshine, some hilarity, some moments created by his disease that will be forever memorable - some sunshine in his descent.