August 15/96
Today I went to visit my father (he lives in a retirement home in Toronto which gives him the extra care he needs) and found him on the floor. He claims he did not fall which means he probably got down on his knees and was crawling when they found him. I cannot describe the feelings I had when I first saw my father crawling a year ago...the six foot strong, powerful father I had always known no longer existed..and I have to acknowledge this reality.

On this visit help came soon after I arrived and the 3 of us got him back into his wheelchair. This process...my putting a pillow under his head and reassuring him while we waited for enough assistance...was almost unbearable for me. I was on the verge of tears, and in fact had to disappear for a few minites before I took him out because I couldn't stop crying. The fortunate (?) part of this whole thing is that my father remains seemingly unaffected by this behavior, due I imagine to his dementia. He knows he shouldn't crawl...bad for an arthritic back..but I think it's his way of exerting some control over his environment...and over the people around him.

August 17/96
I often watch my cat, trying to figure out her bahavior and what goes through her mind when she encounters new situations. For example: one Sunday I brought some rocks home from the cottage and put them on my balcony...adding some pizzaz (!) to my humble garden. My cat Char (Chardonnay) was away at camp (ie. my sister's place). When she came back she immediately went out to the balcony and stopped dead...she didn't know what to make of the rocks. After a few sniffs and jumps, she was fine..but I was amazed at her reaction to something I assumed she would have no problem with.

I find I am now doing the same with my father...watching him, trying to figure out how he now sees the world. It isn't easy. I wonder what scares him, what makes him feel secure, what makes hi m happy, what frustrates him. I no longer know how he'll react to situations...he is continually surprising me.

August 20/96
Time for another walk with Dad. It was a very hot day but as I was pushing him out into the hall, he demanded to return to his room where we had to review all his cotton jackets...he's always had a thing about pure cotton jackets..until we had the one he wanted. He also made me grab a sweater. When I was again wheeling him down the hall, he demanded we stop..(my Dad can be very good at demanding)..and started to run the jacket through his fingers. I asked him what he wanted, no answer. Finally I positioned the jacket with the neck portion in his fingers and at that point he started to put the jacket on. Stupid me; he could't tell me what he wanted so we had to work it through together until I understood. That often happens...I know he wants something but he cannot articulate it and I have to play the guessing game until we both have an answer.

We moved my father to his retirement home on January 20 th this year (coincidentally my birthday; afterward at a dinner out with my brother, sister and boyfriend I threw up from the stress). For seven months he never mentionned this former house although he has always let me know in subtle ways that he really expected to leave the retirement home.

But two weeks ago things came to a head. He demanded to go home...pack up his TV (which he never watches any more) and leave "this house". I decided at this point that I could no longer avoid the issue...I told him he could not go home...he needed too much care etc. I told him about his best friend who was also leaving his home to live with his daughter in Barrie. He started to cry...which he has done ever since my Mother died...and then it was time for lunch. I wheeled him into the dining room and there he sat, crying over his soup. I thought "O God, he's going to stop eating and go into a rapid decline..what have I done?"

But God bless my father...one thing he has never had a problem with is eating. So he would eat, then cry a bit, eat then cry until he stopped crying, mainly because I wasn't freaking out the way I used to when he cried. I think he understood I could not be moved by this behavior and it ceased. Since then he has not demanded to go home.

During the past week or so however, he has been asking to see the house. This is a tough one...I don't feel I can deny him this...perhaps it's his way of saying goodbye to his former life..but I'm afraid doing this will really exacerbate the situation. However, I told him I would take him and Michael his companion, up to the house so Michael could see it. By bringing Michael I hope to keep my father in the present and not let him slip back into thinking he can return. I'll let you know what happens.

August 25/96
Michael and I took Dad to the house today. I was expecting the worst... tremendous agitation, an unwillingness to return to the home. But none of this happened. It obviously was not one of Dad's better days..he had a slight cold; he seemed disoriented when I picked them up and I wonder now if the visit sank in at all. He sat in the living room and looked around but nothing seemed to register. We couldn't go upstairs because the stair-glide was not working. There was no showing things to Michael, no demands to move here and there. In fact, he finally asked to go back to the car.

When I returned him to the home for dinner, I made sure the night staff realized where he had been so they could be prepared for some agitated behavior later in the evening. I am sure the worst is yet to come.

August 29/96
My computer screen is so bright I can hardly bear it. I have been awake most of the night...it's now near dawn. One of those nights where thoughts crowd out logic and peace....and sleep. All I can see is my father's face, looking at his home, his life, with no recognition. I am heartbroken for him but wonder why. He is beyond the pain I feel. Or is he? But how do I deal with it? Why should I be so distraught? I think because we are not prepared by our society that this is how life can be, that one cannot change fate and that falling apart won't help anyone, certainly not oneself.

I'll see my father today, looking for some kind of confirmation for myself that I can go ahead and deal with the house; sell things, give things away...the ritual that finally ends what is left of a family's home and history. Right now it just seems too much too tackle but I know it will get done.

I miss my mother terribly but am glad she is not here to see this.

Later....went to see Dad after dinner. As usual he was in his wheelchair in his sun hat and sun glasses, looking out for me. We went for a walk and then returned for juice and another sit in the foyer before going upstairs. He has mentionned home to the staff and Michael but nothing about the visit to the house to me. When I was getting him ready for bed, he started talking about locks on the door. I couldn't really figure out what he was talking about but knew he was agitated about this. It seems there are many thought streams going through his head..he often goes off on tangents...but these thoughts can't seem to be completed.