Lewy slept all day today except for enough time to consume a 6 oz. cup of yogurt with his pills all crushed and stirred in….yummmm. But Lewy doesn’t seem to mind or even notice. I managed to get two 8 ounce glasses of liquid down him for the day.
We had been using an eye dropper to wet his mouth, but he was getting strangled on the drops, so today it finally occurred to me to hunt down a spray bottle. I found the perfect thing a small empty hair spray pump bottle. After a thorough scrubbing, I squirted Lewy’s mouth a few times. It did not wake him up, but his lips puckered up and the tongue came out to catch all of the mist.
Our friend, Alex, a retired Orthopedic surgeon dropped by today. He was amazed at the decline in Daddy since he saw him last, about 3 months ago. Three months ago Daddy was walking and talking. Now he sleeps.
Nurse Goodbody came by today to check on Daddy. His feet are healing up very well. It’s too bad it took so long for it to happen. Even with the Hoya lift I don’t see Daddy ever getting out of the bed again.
She reported that there was some change in the lungs, a bit more congestion.
I told her Daddy had said he saw Momma three times the other day.
She just nodded and said “That’s a sign.”
I had to ask if she could begin to predict the future. I know it was unfair because Lewy’s are so different, but she guessed maybe a month.
Maybe a month.
That’s were my doctor friend was guessing too. It seems so odd to have a time put out there. I need to find a way to say the things I need to say to Daddy, but my brain just shuts down when I try to think about it. Is what I say for me or for him? They say the hearing is the last to go. No doubt true, but if I’m talking to Lewy rather than Daddy will I know? Can the “talk” be avoided by writing it down instead? It’s a terrible thing when really the only thing that needs to be said are those three little words I can’t get to come out of my mouth.
Momma and Daddy didn’t raise any touchy feely kids, that’s for sure.
Lewy has stopped opening his eyes. He would not or could not look at Nurse Goodbody today.
There is no more flirt left in him.
4 comments:
kddove said...
i feel so attached to him with your everyday life stories, even though i have only seen him 3 or 4 times... i wonder if you would let me have a copy of the photo of him looking out the door? it's such a good picture, i like to frame it...
Stella said...
Why, oh why, are those three little words so hard to say???. i found that even with this dear heart of mine, Freddie. Edward and I have gone years without saying the actual words. I'm not sure of the importance for our generation. My younger members say it each time they say goodbye to us and it is great, but we just did not say it as younger people. I knew when he gassed up my car he loved me. Or when he bought a new replacement for my T-Bird, which I loved. I knew he loved me when I was on a lonely road one night and four or five "hoods" made a human fence across my path in an effort to stop my car. My LTD would not be stopped!!! At this stage of our lives, I enter his room each morning with a simple song, something like, "Let me Call you Sweetheart, I'm in Love with you..." or a Louisiana favorite, "You are my Sunshine, My Only Sunshine..". This morning I sang, "There are Smiles that make me Happy... " When I reached, "are the Smiles that you gave to me", I saw a smiling crinkle beside his eyes and mouth. I know you sing, you have entered songs on this story of yours.
I can't sing. I positively can't sing. But I sang to my babies and now I quietly sing to Freddie because one night several years ago, I heard his rambling voice as he was in the middle of one of his dreams, or whatever it is in night time talking. I heard him say, I guess she loves me but she never tells me. So I sing and hum and call him my ole Sweetheart. He responds. The first few times are hard, but "Try it, You'll like it". For starters just say, "I told Hubbie that I have the dearest dad in the world".
pearose said...
Pauline,
Any regrets you may have after he is gone will be more painful than saying the words that he will hear you say.
I told my grandfather (my most favorite person ever) that he was the best grandfather a grandchild could want and he cried like a baby. So, I then told him that he needed to dry up. :) He then laughed as hard as I've ever heard him laugh. He loved hearing those words and being told that he was loved. He especially loved being teased a little because he would tease right back. I couldn't say it enough to him because I truly loved him and his company.
My cousin stood with me at his casket and regretted that she had never said that to him and she lived with him most of her life up to that point. It hurt me to hear that because he needed to be told how much we appreciated him.
Let him know how you feel. He already knows you do because of what you do for him every day. I promise, the earth won't open up and swallow you. In fact, it may look a little brighter for you (as soon as these storms pass) after you say it the first time. Give him a chance to say it back to you, as well. It's never too late to learn.
Pauline said...
Y'all are Killing me Softly. kddove you certainly may have a copy of the photo.