My mother was in tears a week ago about my dad's failing ability...it was a very hard phone call. My mom is the caretaker for my father and is becoming somewhat isolated and fearful herself. She says that it is "OK" if my dad minds her. I think that she means that he will allow himself to be guided by someone with a clearer mind.

My father is a self-made man. He is a WWII veteran and a man who made a pretty good living for a family of four on a fifth grade education and some training that the GI bill afforded to him. He has always done everything for himself. I do not remember calling in a repair man EVER when growing up. If he couldn't do the job (from electric to installation to sewing), then it wasn't going to be done!

In light of that mind set, it is understandable that he still believes that he should do whatever needs to be done! The problem is that he is forgetting steps and causing a problem for all of us (my mother especially) when he attempts to fix something now. He is also unaware of what tasks he can and cannot accomplish. The Alzheimer's has robbed him of his own self-guided compass.

My husband has been over to my parents house three times to fix the telephone. It will work for a while and then ...it doesn't work. My husband realised on his last visit that my dad had tinkered with the phone ( in his mind fixed it ) and had forgotten that he had messed with it and forgotten how to really fix it.

We cannot figure out how to stop the "fixing" problem that was once such an awesome skill for my father!

My mother's tears were related to an incident that happened at their church. My father has been an usher for years at the church. His job is to direct people to the seats and greet them when they come in to the main auditorium. It seems that the other ushers were stumped with the memory issues and didn't know how to communicate with either my father or my mother (who is always with him at church) to tell them that he was having problems with his ushering duties. The other ushers choose to tell my dad at church on a Sunday morning that he was no longer needed. My mom became aware of the dismissal when my father came to her pew and sat down early.

"What happened?" she asked. "Why aren't you ushering?"
"They don't need me!" my dad reported.

Not willing to let that go, my mom went to the back of the church and asked the head usher what had caused them to dismiss my father as a usher.
They reported that he was making too many mistakes. My mom was devastated! She felt that my dad was still capable of the ushering responsibilities and had been watching his performance. She reported to me that she hadn't noticed any problems and wants my dad to do as much as he can for as long as he can.

This has been a theme for our family during the Alzheimer's journey: managing to provide safety and respect and attempting to balance the two. I cannot say that any of us have managed it as well as we would like. I worry that my dad ( who is still driving) will get into a car accident. I worry that his poor balance will result in a fall. I am concerned that he will hurt himself with the power tools in the garage. I could "what if" his current condition all day long and not solve one thing!

As a family, we have all concluded that we have to simply take this disease one slow and icky step at a time. In other words, we must make plans and do our best to provide and protect but we don't really want to rob him of his failing independence or treat him like a child. We continue to tell him that we love him. We are researching resources that may be needed in the future. We are working together to attempt to help my mom maintain her house and her dignity. We are trying to enjoy what is going on now and not always live in the past of what used to be.

Every time something happens, like the incident at church, I am trying to accept that my father's life is changing and so am I . It is not a change that I would have chosen, but the heavenly Father has allowed it and therefore, I must bow to much greater wisdom than I possess.

Alzheimers is a strange illness. The skills and abilities that we take for granted seem to come and go. My dad's memory, for example, is a fleeting and undependable thing.

One day, my dad can look up my phone number in his phone directory and call me . I was so surprised and pleased to receive a cheery and positive message on my answering machine. He said, "Hey! Bona Lynn (his favorite nickname for me), I just wanted to know how you are! Call me back!!"

Several hours later when I joyfully received the message and returned his call he said, "I don't think that I called you, are you sure?" For a split second , I thought, he is joking with me and then I remembered that he really doesn't joke anymore. He had forgotten that he had called me a just a few hours before.

If this happens often enough, you begin to question your own reality. It makes you long for the days when you KNEW he was teasing you and he would laugh and the moment would pass.
Now with Alzheimers, my father waits for me to explain that I had a message on my machine from him.

"What did I say?" he asks.
"You asked me to call you back" I reply.
"Do you know why?" my father inquires.
"No, I don't know what you had on your mind " I report.
"Oh." he says "Do you want to speak to your mother?"

In a moment, the father I have known for 56 years slips away.

I have read that many family members fear that their loved one with Alzheimers will forget them. I can relate to that. Some Alzheimers patients completely fail to recognize their relatives and friends late in the disease, while others, continue to recognize them as relatives or friends even if they are not exactly sure of the names and relationships.

I thank God every time I call my father's home and he recognizes me by name. I have never heard sweeter words than " Hey, Bonnie!"