What He Whispered
Our daily routines rarely change. They mostly consist, right now, of me buzzing around cooking, cleaning, and organizing while Mom sits in her chair all day and Dad sits in his recliner or works on a puzzle.
Dad and I have been doing about one puzzle a week for months now. At first, he was embarrassed to admit he liked doing them. To him, it was a waste of time. He feels useless these days. His whole world used to be about work and being productive.
I would always start a puzzle while he mumbled that he didn’t want anything to do with it, but he just couldn’t stay away. Now he’s hooked. When I buy a new one, he might still joke or mumble, but he’ll be the one starting it before me.
Mom has been showing more decline this week. She’s still getting up every day to go to her chair, but she’s weaker, eating less, and sleeping more. We have moved to stronger pain medications, which I know will cause her to become more withdrawn and tired.
Dad and I sat working on the puzzle yesterday afternoon while I waited for the hospice nurse’s afternoon visit. He got up and went into the garage. I didn’t think much of it until I saw him driving away.
Dad’s dementia is still pretty mild at this stage, and he has good days and bad. The only driving he does is less than a mile down the road in this small town to have coffee with the guys two days a week or go to the post office. Everyone knows him in this small town where he was mayor for almost 30 years.
I figured he must be running to the post office, but planned to talk to him when he returned about telling me when he was leaving. The nurse came, and while they were still here, he returned and stayed out in the garage until they left. When he came back inside, he seemed pretty exhausted and sweaty. He just told us it was hot outside and acted like everything was fine.
When evening came around, I mentioned to him to keep an eye on Mom during the night because she had started a new medication, and if there were any changes, to be sure and let me know. He nodded, got quiet for a moment, and then softly told me the real reason he had left earlier.
To my surprise, while we were working on the puzzle, he had gone to the cemetery where our family has several plots. He took the trimmer and cleaned up the area. He was getting things ready for Mom…
He then started talking about which plot to use for her. He said, “I don’t dare tell her about it or she will get upset.”
My heart sank.
I keep telling myself he doesn’t really understand how much Mom is declining. But that afternoon, I realized he understands exactly what’s coming.