We have Papa here for a few days. At 92, with the 93rd birthday approaching, he is more childlike than ever. When a couple of months pass between visits with him, the mental deterioration is evident. We had lunch with Sis and Brother in Law earlier this week and retrieved Papa in the process. He willingly uses the walker that was anathema just a year ago. He always asks us to simply order for him at a restaurant and gets lost going from one room to the next. Still, he is ever cheerful and appreciative of our care.
It's painful when he cannot remember many of the good times of the past. When we discuss events from a decade or more before, he will look with a bit of a blank stare, and then pretend to remember if prompted. He didn't recognize Son, but when introduced, he seemed to remember the person who now had little resemblance to the youngest grandson buried in his memory. After a few moments of quiet conversation, the spark seemed to ignite. Last night he was familiar with Son and Daughter in Law.
Sis and Brother in Law have spent many hours over the last month with photos and talks reminding him of his long and fruitful life. I had hung pictures we brought from his home at the lake in the bedroom where he now sleeps. Upon his arrival, I escorted him back to become acquainted with the place where he will sleep for the next week. He stared a long time at the portraits of his three children and families, one of my mother with him when they were first married, and another taken on a trip with all the adult children after she was gone. On another wall he looked at some landscape photos taken on the shore and grounds of the home he enjoyed for nearly fifty years. We talked about the pictures and he interacted a little, but I cannot be sure if he was remembering or humoring me. Sister is sure he remembers the things she discusses with him, I guess I'm not so lucky.
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