Last night I picked up my dad and brought him home for dinner. I used to cringe every time I’d walk dad through my garage and into my house as the garage has many of the tools that used to be his. It’s pretty common for children to have enormous guilt over placing their parents in a nursing home especially when they’re still cognizant enough to know they’re loosing so much and can’t do anything to stop it. It doesn’t matter that it’s the right thing to do. It just hurts and you have to keep repeating the mantra “I love them and it’s for their own good.”

When we got home my dog Cosmo heard the rattle of his walker and started barking wildly. She’s never liked anything with wheels (vacuums, little red wagons, etc.) and usually tries to bite the wheels of the offending vehicle. In response dad banged his walker on the floor and loudly barked back at her. We had to restrain Cosmo and hide dad’s walker.

We sat out on the deck and talked for a time while he nursed his scotch and soda and I my Corona. He learned to like Scotch when he was in the Army. Officers where given an alcohol allowance and since other booze like Bourbon, Gin, Whiskey, etc. went first, there was always Scotch available.

Cosmo came over to him several times in between exploring the back yard. She must have triggered his memory as he kept talking about a dog he had growing up. When I asked what kind of dog he was or what his name was he said, “I don’t remember his name. He was just a cur, but he would walk me to school every morning and come back every afternoon to walk me home. I don’t know how he knew when to come get me. I suppose he just heard the other children.”

The above photo of my dad was one he had sent mom when he was in Germany in WWII. The military was such an important part of his life that whenever we visit, the conversation usually turns to his Army experiences. Tonight he talked about WWII.

I related how I had a history teacher in Junior High who was a paratrooper on D-Day and that every year he’d have a ‘D-Day’ class and bring in a bunch of souvenirs and talk about his experiences. This teacher had talked about being separated from his platoon and how he felt so bad after he killed his first German soldier. His fellow soldiers counseled him that he had to do it to save his life and the lives of others.

“You never forget a moment like that.” he said with a sip of his drink. I asked him if he remembered the first time he had killed someone and he said yes. When I pressed him about what happened he said, “He went down.”

Bless us oh Lord, and these thy gifts which we are about to receive from thy bounty through Christ our Lord, Amen.

Dad said the prayer before dinner. For as long as I can remember our family has always said this same prayer. We had brauts cooked on the grill, along with baked beans, salad and lemon bars for desert. He always had a sweet tooth and loves lemon.

I made the comment that he’s probably said that prayer more than a few times in his life. He said, “Yeah, I even made my men say it.”

When I asked him if any of his men were atheists, he said a few were. One guy said that he didn’t want to pray and dad asked him “What am I supposed to tell your parents if you die in this war? Wouldn’t it be better if I could tell them you said your prayers?” The soldier shrugged his shoulders and said, “Yeah, I guess it would.”

“Did he make it through the war okay?” I asked. “Oh yeah, he was fine.”

After a while he turned the conversation to his dad and how he lost his job in the depression. Fortunately he had managed to save enough money to help them get through some really lean years. “He always took good care of my mom and me.” he said.

I found out they lived in a two story house just down the street from where General Eisenhower grew up in Abilene Kansas. Dad remembers seeing Eisenhower on occasion, walking down the street while he played marbles in his yard.

A lifetime is only 5 minutes ago and 5 minutes ago is a lifetime.

I’m always amazed at how these memories seem so clear to dad and yet he can’t remember what he ate 5 minutes ago or that he’s just told a story 6 times. Yet, something 60 years ago is fresh.

It’s these little slices of his life that give me a window into who my father is. The experiences he’s had that shaped his life. It also helps me to put things in perspective and keep my black dog at bay. There’s always someone who’s worse off than you. Someone who’s overcome bad situations in their life. I use their stories as inspiration to keep on keeping on. You play the hand life has dealt you. I’m determined never to fold.

On another note I went out this morning with the intent to go to one of my favorite bakeries and grab something to eat. I should’ve known that it would be closed but hope sprang eternal. When I saw the lights out and ‘closed’ sign in their door I decided to go around the block in hopes that a restaurant the next block over would be open. They weren’t either, so I eased up to the traffic light, put my blinker on and started to go back home.

In the crosswalk waiting to cross the street was an older black man dressed up in a dark blue suite. Sitting atop his short cropped gray hair was a VFW cap festooned with patches commemorating his military service. He had a little of the lost look that I’ve come to know by helping my dad out and visiting with the other old men in his nursing home. On his left was a younger woman I assumed to be his daughter. He was holding on to her arm and staring straight ahead as she looked either way & waited for a clear moment to cross the street.

She looked towards me and I motioned her to cross. As they walked slowly across I couldn’t help but roll my window down and say, “Thank you for your service. Have a happy Memorial Day!” She turned, smiled warmly and waved. The older gentleman then turned and looked at me with a somewhat confused expression that I’ve also come to know from my father.

A little trip that I thought would pay off with some home-made bread & a full stomach paid off with something much greater.

To veterans everywhere, “Thank you for your service!”

Ten Things To Remember About Memorial Day

Last Known WWI Vet

This entry was posted on Monday, May 26th, 2008 at 2:47 pm and is filed under Alzheimer's, family, history, pets.