My father doesn’t call me very often now, and I miss that. I miss his enthusiastic stories about the weather or his dog, or about searching for his wallet. I miss him phoning to review his schedule or to have me explain something for the third or fourth or tenth time. And I especially miss the calls when he’d clunk the receiver down, stroll over to the piano bench and play for so long I’d wonder if he’d forgotten me on the other end.
Dear Jennie, as Walter falters, I’m reminded of that expression, ‘we treat our pets more humanely than our loved ones’ regarding euthanasia. As my dad declined, I sent a letter to my sibs exploring taking dad for a canoe ride and tipping it over. I can’t remember if they ever responded. I had a dream with dad where I was on a dock and he was in the water, holding onto the dock. He had a placid expression. He pushed down on the dock to raise himself up, looked at me and smiled very warmly. Then he exhaled and sunk, leaving a bubble trail. I could tell he’d decided to pass on his own terms. Your process will continue to get more difficult. So sorry.
That’s a haunting story, especially the dream that followed your suggestion to your family. Questions about when/whether it’s better to be dead than alive in the later stages of dementia are complicated (and I have plans for a tangentially related Substack essay). But for now, it’s clear to me that in our case, my dad would not want us to tip the canoe, would, in fact, swim vigorously back to an overturned canoe and hang on for all he’s worth.
Enjoyed reading this along with what gives us purpose. ..and our father, remarkably, called you back to apologize. The love for his daughter was too precious to get in the way of a “spat.” - love shows up even when least expected
Dear Jennie, as Walter falters, I’m reminded of that expression, ‘we treat our pets more humanely than our loved ones’ regarding euthanasia. As my dad declined, I sent a letter to my sibs exploring taking dad for a canoe ride and tipping it over. I can’t remember if they ever responded. I had a dream with dad where I was on a dock and he was in the water, holding onto the dock. He had a placid expression. He pushed down on the dock to raise himself up, looked at me and smiled very warmly. Then he exhaled and sunk, leaving a bubble trail. I could tell he’d decided to pass on his own terms. Your process will continue to get more difficult. So sorry.
That’s a haunting story, especially the dream that followed your suggestion to your family. Questions about when/whether it’s better to be dead than alive in the later stages of dementia are complicated (and I have plans for a tangentially related Substack essay). But for now, it’s clear to me that in our case, my dad would not want us to tip the canoe, would, in fact, swim vigorously back to an overturned canoe and hang on for all he’s worth.
One must be brave just to read this piece. So much more so to write it. You have my respect.
Enjoyed reading this along with what gives us purpose. ..and our father, remarkably, called you back to apologize. The love for his daughter was too precious to get in the way of a “spat.” - love shows up even when least expected