You Must Remember This
My dad’s 75th birthday was yesterday, and I gave him a call to convey my best wishes. We chatted about this and that. He told me about his unfortunate setback at the track that day – he’d invested some money for a superfecta, the bet hinging on a horse named Fox Valley Somethingorother that failed to come through, but he hadn’t yet checked the results and thought perhaps Fox Valley Whatever had been scratched. I told him some of my latest news, we talked about the unfortunate incident involving my brother’s car, and then he told me about his unfortunate setback at the track that day – he’d invested some money for a superfecta, the bet hinging on a horse named Fox Valley Somethingorother that failed to come through, but he hadn’t yet checked the results and thought perhaps Fox Valley Whatever had been scratched. I listened in open-mouthed wonder to this sudden rerun, but was too surprised to say anything but “uh-huh.” If it had been my mom telling me the same story twice in the space of five minutes, I wouldn’t have been surprised. She’s been telling me the same stories over and over again all my life. If I were to put a notch in the wall every time she asked me if I remembered the time when I was four and I said that the delicious pink soup sure made crackers taste terrible, the structural integrity of the wall would have long since been seriously compromised. That’s just her way and always has been – either she doesn’t keep track of whom she’s told what story over the years, or she just assumes nobody remembers any of them. My dad, though – this was new, and it left me feeling most uneasy. My grandfather – my dad’s dad – lived into his 80s and spent his last few years spiralling into dementia. He stayed with us the year before he died, and at times he didn’t know who my father – his son – was. He didn’t know whose house he was in, what city, what year. It was a sad and terrible thing to see.
I didn’t say anything to my dad, and I haven’t yet said anything to my mom. I’m going to... I just need a little time to figure out how to broach the subject. Trust me, it’s going to require a certain amount of finesse. And besides, it could be that I’m jumping to some conclusions here. Maybe my dad was distracted and paying less than complete attention to the conversation. Telephone conversations in my parents’ house rarely involve two parties speaking to one another; there’s generally a third voice providing dictation notes.
I understand the treatment options for short-term memory loss have advanced greatly since the days of my grandfather’s decline. Anybody have any experience in this area?
I didn’t say anything to my dad, and I haven’t yet said anything to my mom. I’m going to... I just need a little time to figure out how to broach the subject. Trust me, it’s going to require a certain amount of finesse. And besides, it could be that I’m jumping to some conclusions here. Maybe my dad was distracted and paying less than complete attention to the conversation. Telephone conversations in my parents’ house rarely involve two parties speaking to one another; there’s generally a third voice providing dictation notes.
I understand the treatment options for short-term memory loss have advanced greatly since the days of my grandfather’s decline. Anybody have any experience in this area?
posted by PapaDogDuvalier | 5:47 PM
1 Comments:
Sorry I can't help you out, but I hope that whatever you find helps your dad.
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