Gone Without Saying Good-bye

It's been one week since we laid my dad to rest. Dementia finally claimed his worn mind and body. We wrote in his obituary that he died from dementia because so many people assumed he died of COVID-19. But, as I have been reflecting in the past week on his passing, I do consider him a victim of the virus not because he was afflicted with it, but because we were forced to be separated from him for the past month. 

I think he just gave up, thinking we had just abandoned him. When my sister called the nursing home to check on him on April 2nd, they said they were getting ready to call us. They said he had been asking when people were coming to visit, but his brain could no longer comprehend or remember the details of the pandemic. They said after two weeks he stopped asking, and stopped eating, and slept all the time. He lost more than 20 pounds during that time. By April 6th, they had advised calling hospice. He died on the morning of April 9th. We are comforted that one of my brothers was able to be with him when he took his last breath. 

With dementia, you mourn a hundred losses over the course of the disease. You cry when you realize your dad can no longer drive, or be home alone, or turn on the television, or walk unassisted, or take care of personal hygiene, or remember his grandchildren. You are gutted the day he no longer remembers your name and asks if he's known you a long time. You cry alone in the car each time you leave the nursing home because it is so heartbreaking to see a piece of him slip away with each visit. You cry when you learn he has finally slipped away knowing it is forever, and cry for the guilt you feel at the sense of relief. You cry when you see him laid out in the casket, almost unrecognizable because he seems so small and frail than the father/protector you want to remember. You cry watching your mom say goodbye to her husband of 65 years, and you cry because this great man was only allowed to have eight people at his funeral.

Dementia stole my father years ago and COVID-19 robbed me of the last month of his life. We were lucky to have him 89 years, and he will always be the most important man in my life.