My father is 88 years old. He grew up with 7 brothers and sisters . He was raised to farm and care for a large tobacco farm in North Carolina.

He has always been a family man, he kept us close to his immediate family and to his extended family,too! He has always been a loving and outgoing man who loved family and loved life. In the last year, things have changed for all of us. We didn't know what was wrong but we knew that the laughing, outgoing guy that we all knew and loved was replaced with a quieter and moody stranger.

Something happened that put a label on what was beginning to take place with my dad. I recieved a call from my mother who asked me to come to the hospital emergency room . It was a beautiful afternoon. I was home from church and ready to sit out in my back yard and enjoy the sunny day. My mother explained that the doctors at the ER were convinced that my father had had a stroke.

I rushed down to the hospital. My father was stable and the doctors wanted to keep him over night and run more tests in the morning.  We all agreed and made preparations for his hospital stay.

At 6:00am on Monday morning, my mother called me again.

"Bonnie, "she said, "could you go the hospital, your dad is having some trouble."
"What kind of trouble?" I asked.
"Well, my mom reported, "it seems that he is not able to stay in bed and behave himself."
"Huh?" I replied, "what do you mean?"
"He's confused and whats to come home but they haven't completed the testing so he has to stay until they are able to do that...see if you can convince him to stay.  I will be there as soon as I can!" My mother signed off with that comment.

As I drove to the hospital, I started thinking about all the times he had "forgotten" things in the last few months, and the questions that he would ask over and over (since he has a hearing loss and won't wear a hearing aid, at first we thought he simply hadn't heard us) and the change in his over-all demeanor.   I remember asking once if he was depressed.  He seemed overly dependent on my mother and was more stubburn than usual.  I arrived at the hospital room before my mom and was greeted by my father in his Sunday suit (he was admitted on Sunday and didn't have other clothes to wear) holding the white paper bag that the hospital gives with all his earthly possessions inside.  My father was standing at the door of his room ready to go home!

He asked me, "Oh, good! Did you come to take me home?"  He looked like a six year old waiting for his mommy.  I was sad to see my strong father acting like a child.  Later, I convinced him that we needed to wait for mom to come and he agreed without questions.  It was in the confines of that two day stay in the hospital that the testing revealed no physical reason for the confusion and memory issues.  It was the first time that the word,  Alzheimers, was used.  It was the first time that I was really afraid that I would lose him before he actually passed away.

Welcome to Bonnie's Journal

This site was designed to provide a place to document a journey.  The journey is familiar to perhaps millions of people who fit the so called "sandwich generation" category.  The "sandwich generation" is usually used to denote adults who are parents or caregivers for late teen or young adult children and also become responsible for aging parents...therefore the sandwich analogy!  It is definitely a squeeze!

The time involved in assistance and the stress level alone all add up to the feeling of being in a sandwich!

While the journey is familiar to others, to me, it is very new and painful...

My parents live in the local area and I am the oldest child.  I am also a therapist and have the educational and exeriencial tools to help my parents.  May father is 88 and has always been the rock of our family.  His mental capabilities are failing and my mother is struggling to learn how to do things as simple as pumping gas for the family car.  (my dad always id it for them)

I am struggling with my own denial.

What does this mean?

What should I do or not do?

Will they be OK if I don't do anything?

What is my role not?

I am filled with conflict and recognize that what is really different about this situations and therapy is that I cannot be objective because it is happening to me!