Remembering My Dad

I don't think I fully appreciated my dad until I became a father myself. For better and for worse, much of what I started out knowing about being a father came from my experiences with my dad. Sometimes I think that I took after him in all of his worst traits - we're both impatient, short-tempered at times, and tough on our kids (and others) - but that I did not inherit his better qualities such as being resourceful, able to fix anything without having the benefit of YouTube videos to turn to, and just being mentally tough.

My favorite story that epitomizes his toughness was the time when I was a kid that he accidentally hammered his thumb and the internal bleeding swelled his thumb against his thumbnail causing him great pain. Rather than go to the hospital as most people would, he took out a power drill and bore a small hole through the nail to relieve the pressure. That he could think of this in that moment speaks to his resourcefulness; that he could execute this without completely drilling a hole through his thumb speaks to his ability to stay calm under pressure; and that he even dared to do it at all speaks to a certain audacity that he had, or craziness if you will.

My dad was never one to shy away from challenges. When we were in Hawaii when I was 13 years old, he once climbed up a coconut tree without a ladder, using only his hands and feet to pull himself up. You can see the exuberance he had for life in that big smile in the following photo.

Dad loved the outdoors, and did a lot of hunting back in the day. He got a few trophies, but my favorite story is of one that got away. Dad was bow hunting out west when he spotted a grizzly. It was too far away to shoot, but Dad tried to get into position. Suddenly, the bear started to run toward him. Most of us would have either turned and run or frozen in panic, but my dad set himself in the path of the bear and pulled back his bow. Just as the bear got close enough for a shot, it suddenly veered away, saving either himself or my dad.

As a father, my dad was tough. If I am totally frank, I will say that I loved and adored my mom, but didn't always even like my dad. He had high expectations, held us to high standards, and made us pay the consequences for shortcomings. I didn't like that at all as a kid, but now that I'm a father myself, I can understand a little better where he was coming from. Mothers usually earn their kids' undying love, but it is often up to the fathers to play the bad cop and holding their kids accountable. And while I hope I am a little less old school and more communicative and understanding than my dad was, I know that at the core, I take after him in that regard.

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We got the call late last week that my dad was "transitioning" into the last stages of life (their words).

His Alzheimer's had gotten progressively worse over the past few years. He could not remember anything you told him for more than a few seconds and thus "conversations" such as they were, were extremely limited. He always was irritable or angry. And so, while he received good care at the memory care facility where he stayed, his quality of life was poor.

In recent months he started to lose the ability to swallow. He had been on pureed food and now they told us he did not want to eat at all.

For the first few days late last week he was able to acknowledge my presence. But Monday, he looked much worse, and we knew the end was near. He passed away early Monday afternoon.

This was Kai's first experience with the death of a family member that he knew. He wasn't as close to my dad as he is to his other grandparents. My dad was never all that kid friendly to begin with, but his Alzheimer's made it even more difficult for Kai to interact with him. I wish he had known my dad before his mind was stricken, but he did have some fond experiences with him before my dad's condition got too severe.

Kai said that he especially enjoyed visiting his grandfather when he still lived on his own in rural Michigan. During our fall visits, Kai enjoyed picking apples and spending time outdoors.

Of course with my dad, a visit to his place never meant a weekend just relaxing. My dad always put us to work and it was no exception with Kai. Here is Kai clearing the path of logs that were blocking the way.

Another place that Kai enjoyed going to with my dad was the Chicago Botanic Garden where they shared a love of plants and flowers.

My wife brought Kai to my dad's place after Kai got out of school on Monday. My dad had passed away about an hour before, and Kai gave me a big, tight hug. It was the best hug of my life.

I asked Kai how he felt, and he said he was sad. He was also introspective, which is not a common thing for him, as he said that he would be even sadder if it were one of his other grandfathers that he is very close to.

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My dad loved to play the harmonica. After my mom passed away, I think that was what brought him his greatest pleasure. He frequently carried his harmonica with him and broke it out to entertain widows and widowers he met through grief counseling sessions, and even at airports while waiting for a connecting flight. But he especially enjoyed playing for the kids at his neighbor's daycare.

The following video clip was taken at a family Thanksgiving gathering about a dozen years ago where he tried to cajol everyone to sing along to a Japanese children's song while he played. The "kids" in this case were my teen and tween nephews who were a bit old for the sing-a-long, not to mention they didn't know the Japanese lyrics (which told the story of the tortoise and the hare). Watching this video again this past weekend as we awaited the end of his life, brought tears to my eyes to see how vibrant my dad was not all that long ago.



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On Monday afternoon, just prior to my dad's passing and also afterward, several of the caregivers at the facility where my dad stayed came to his room to say goodbye and pay their last respects. I was very touched at how genuinely sad they were. It was somewhat surprising considering how difficult he often was these last few years. I thanked them all for taking care of my dad so well, and for putting up with his irascible ways. They smiled, and some of them acknowledged how tough he could be, but they all said that he was such a sweetheart inside. I think they were able to clearly see what I had not for so many years. That behind all the toughness was a man with a good heart who truly cared for his family and loved ones.

And as I say goodbye to him, I will try to honor my dad by striving to keep this best part of him alive inside of me.

A Sweet Day

My sister and brother-in-law visited this weekend. Which came in handy as we needed the extra help with walking the dogs we had.

Later, we all went to the Long Grove Chocolate Festival where Kai enjoyed a few different types of chocolate. Here he's having chocolate-covered marshmallows.

When Kai was little, he loved bubbles. It's been a while since he played with them, but this bubble maker at the festival got his attention.

And he had fun chasing and popping some bubbles.

Later, back at the house, we all celebrated my dad's birthday. His actual birthday won't be until later this month, but since he's always saying how he's almost 100 years old and that milestone is still a decade away, I don't think he minded an early celebration of his 90th birthday.

And there's nothing like having some of the ice cream birthday cake that capped a sweet day for Kai.

Our Memorial Day

Beach

The water was cold, even for Kai.

Barbeque

Well, it was indoors, but we had ribs, corn on the cob, cole slaw, and baked beans. Yum!

Birthday

My dad's birthday is this week. My wife made made the birthday cake out of Jell-O and pound cake, and topped it with home-made whipped cream and strawberries and blueberries to give it the patriotic look on Memorial Day.


Hope you had a nice holiday as well.

Weekend Snippets

Kai’s school is putting a team together for a 5K run in June. My wife suggested that we all participate, and Kai was surprisingly enthusiastic about the idea. On Saturday morning, he insisted that we go for a run together before breakfast.

It has been nearly two years since we went running. In the past he often complained about being too tired halfway through. But this time he was in good spirits throughout and kept up the admittedly slow pace. The photo below was taken immediately afterward as we came home and my wife took our latest dog out for a walk.

This first run was just under a mile, so we have to build up distance over the next three months. Let’s see if he maintains his enthusiasm.

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We participated in the exercise class at my dad’s assisted living facility.

Kai wasn’t all that into the exercise, but he did take a nice picture here with Ojiichan.

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We have taken a few family classes at the Chicago Botanic Garden. The topic this month was terrariums. We got to make our own to take home.

And then afterward we got to tour the orchid show again for free

Hope you had a nice weekend, too.

My Dad’s Alzheimer’s: Making the Tough Choice

From the time my dad was officially diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, we knew that it was only a matter of time before he would not be able to continue living on his own.

We wanted to wait as long as we could because my dad loved the country home he had retired to in rural Michigan, a place where he had put so much work into in designing the house, planting more than a thousand trees, and working the land with his tractor and other equipment. It was nirvana to him that he could watch deer and geese and turkeys and other wildlife to his heart’s content.

It grew more difficult for us to let him continue to live there as his house increasingly became a mess, with garbage thrown out only when my sister or I went over and did it ourselves. My dad never seemed to notice the condition, and got offended when anyone said that it was a mess.

His hygiene deteriorated as he never seemed to shower except when he was with us and we insisted. He never did laundry; if we didn’t do it for him, he would keep wearing the same stinky clothes day after day.

His behavior grew odd in other ways, too. He wore many layers of shirts and pants, even on hot summer days. He collected things he did not need, and never got rid of anything.

The thing of it was that he never acknowledged any of it. He could easily talk about how there was no problem and he was so articulate that you could almost believe him if you didn’t see the reality of the situation yourself.

More recently it became apparent that his memory, which had been bad for some time now, had deteriorated even further. On the trip back from my sister’s house at Thanksgiving, we stayed overnight at a motel. We went out for dinner and when we returned to the motel, my dad had no idea where we were or what we were doing there even though we had checked in and used the swimming pool before going out for dinner.

As far as I was concerned, that was the last straw. That, along with the fact that my dad did not seem to be enjoying his rural home like he used to. Even before winter, it was becoming apparent that he did not go outside much. He did not work the land any more. He seemed to be staying inside with the television on all day.

But we knew it would be impossible to persuade him to leave.

He had previously resisted even minor suggestions like having someone come in once a week to clean, or to have meals delivered to him. Everything was fine, he said. He didn’t need any help.

But we knew things weren’t fine. And so we began looking for a place for him to live. Living with one of us was not an option. We would not be able to give him the level of attention that he needed, and it would put an incredible stress and strain on our family if we tried.

So we began looking for a place where my dad could be professionally cared for 24 hours, and where he would have an opportunity to socialize with staff and other residents. We especially wanted to find a place that had the ability to care for people with Alzheimer’s.

We found several places relatively near our home.

Kai went with us on three of the visits, and took great interest in finding a good place for Ojiichan.

Once our visits were complete, we made our decision, choosing a place that specializes in memory care. We were particularly swayed that the executive director there seemed to best understand how difficult it would be to get my dad to leave his home.

And that was our challenge.

How would we get him to agree to move?

The answer, we came to realize, is that we were not going to get him to agree. But we would have to move him nonetheless.

I called him and told him that I would pick him up and bring him back to our house the weekend we would be celebrating Kai’s birthday (the first time).

He was very happy to come.

He played the harmonica.

He played with Kai.

He went to Kai’s piano recital.

And celebrated Kai’s birthday.

But the next day it was time to take my dad over to the assisted living facility where he would live.

We told him that we were going out to lunch, which was true. We did not tell him that he would stay there.

As we arrived, my dad did not notice the signs that clearly noted that this was a place for assisted living, not a restaurant. As we walked in, he did not notice that the place really did not look like a restaurant at all.

The arrangements had all been planned out ahead of time. The staff took us back to a room where we would have lunch together.

My dad enjoyed the meal.

And when we were all done, one of the staff came back and told my dad that he would be staying there. The rest of us got up, quickly said our goodbyes and left before my dad could hardly realize what was happening.

It sounds harsh, doesn’t it?

But I firmly believe that in our case, there wasn’t any other way.

The thing that is hard to understand, it certainly took us a while to realize it ourselves, is that with Alzheimer’s, you have to look after your loved one's best interests even as they cannot see it for themselves. There is no reasoning with the person. They think that everything is fine. You can spend countless hours discussing and trying to persuade, and the only result will be frustration for all.

Once we finally understood that, we acted. For his own good.

Later in the afternoon, we got a call from the executive director. She told us that my dad was adjusting surprisingly well. I think that the severity of his condition actually helped make the transition easier.

Just after we had left, they had the nurse measure his blood pressure and other vitals. He told her, “This is great! I’ve never been to a restaurant that did all this before.”

We did not visit him right away to give him time to adjust to his new environment. But we got updates from the executive director every day. My dad was actually enjoying being there.

While that was surprising given our concerns that he would not want to live anywhere away from his own home, it was also understandable. He was getting a lot of attention from the nice staff members whereas previously he had very little social interactions. He had all of his meals prepared and served for him, and all of his clothes laundered. And he had a very appreciative and enthusiastic audience for when he played the harmonica.

A week after we dropped him off, my sister, brother-in-law, and I paid our first visit. (Kai felt sick just as we were to leave our house so he and my wife did not come that time.) My dad was happy to see us. He was not angry about being there. In fact, he showed us around, introduced us to everyone there, and told us how well taken care of he was.

From the following week, Kai has joined my wife and I on our weekly visits. We can now see my dad much more often than when he was living so far away.

My dad is always happy to see us.

We usually take with us the one game, Suspend, that we know my dad is capable of playing.

And we have lunch together – my wife prepares a Japanese meal that she knows my dad would enjoy. In the picture below we brought tonkatsu (a Japanese fried pork) and norimaki (rice ball).

And so all has been good.

In our case, the transition went as well as we ever hoped it would. We are relieved that my dad is in a place where he is getting the attention and care he needs. We are happy that he is happy there, and that we can see him more often.

There will be difficult days ahead as his condition worsens.

But there is also comfort in knowing that we did what we needed to do for him.

Fall Weekend at Ojiichan’s

We drove out to see my dad this weekend.

Fall is a great time to go as my dad has a lot of apple trees on his property that are usually loaded with fruit this time of year. Kai wanted to walk around and pick apples as soon as we got there.

After that we had lunch. And then Kai occupied himself with the iPad while my wife and I cleaned up the house just a bit. It would take a 10-man crew a few weeks to really clean the place, so we just did what we could while we were there.

We couldn’t work too long though, as Kai was itching to get outside again. My wife loves chestnuts and Kai knew that Ojichan has a couple of chestnut trees. So we went in search of the elusive treat

We saw a lot of the thorny shells on the ground that was evidence that the trees must have produced a lot of chestnuts. But with no actual nut inside the empty shells, it looked like the squirrels had gotten all of it. Finally, my wife spotted one with the nuts still inside the shell.

We found a total of three chestnuts.

We came back to the house and played a game of darts.

From the time that Kai first saw my dad’s electronic dartboard, he was fascinated by the game. The combination of numbers and funny sounds made a perfect combination. At the time of his first visit, he was too small to throw the darts well, though we let him stand on a crate just a couple feet from the board so that he could participate.

Now, my dad no longer plays as his eyesight has deteriorated to the point where he cannot really see the dartboard. But Kai has gotten much better and he can throw the dart from almost the same distance back as I do. So, he, Mom, and I played while Ojiichan watched.

After the dart game, the four of us drove to a nearby farm where we saw apple cider being made. It was the first time I had seen the process.

First, a woman washed the apples and loaded them on a conveyer.

The apples went through a grinder.

A man wrapped the apple pulp in burlap.

When he had five of those stacked up, he started the machine that pressed the juice out of the pulp.

The juice flowed into a tank.

And then we were able to pour ourselves some cider.

Afterward, we enjoyed the cider, and a dozen apple cider doughnuts which we also saw being made.

Both the cider and doughnuts were very delicious.

The next day, we walked around picking more apples.

Kai enjoyed tasting fruits from each different tree. Some were too sour, but he found some that he really enjoyed and we brought back a large bagful.

On the drive back home, we stopped at a country market that had a very wide assortment of large pumpkins.

We picked out the largest pumpkin that we had ever bought, and it was only $10, which is about a third of the cost we would have to pay at a pumpkin farm near our house.

And so we had a very pleasant weekend.

I know my dad was happy to see us, but I was also pleased that Kai had a good time.

There were many things that could have bothered him – the fruit flies in my dad’s house, the odor from the garbage we hauled away in our car, the odor from my dad who doesn’t shower as often as he needs to – but the boy who often wails at the slightest odd smell just went with the flow this weekend.

I really don’t know if he just did not notice, or if he did notice but had enough social decorum not to mention it. I’m guessing it was the former, though that would be a bit surprising given his ultra sensitivity to everything.

I’m just glad that he remains such a sweet kid who truly enjoys seeing all of his grandparents. Even the smelly one.

Dealing with Alzheimer’s

I am always hoping that people will be understanding and tolerant of my son with autism. But I struggle for that same tolerance with my father who has Alzheimer’s.

Being with my dad is like living a real-life version of Groundhog Day, except there’s nothing humorous about it.

I can be somewhat patient with listening to him say the same things over and over again. When he mentions the “beautiful weather” for the tenth time in an hour, I can usually manage a nod of the head and a tired response to him.

But when his complete lack of memory is combined with his naturally ornery personality, things get more difficult.

He gets argumentative every time we make a suggestion that would benefit him. Everything is fine, in his mind, even though it is obvious to anyone who has seen his house, or come within a few feet of his smelly clothes, that it is not.

Last week, my wife took him to get new eyeglasses made. But when he found out the price, he refused to buy them. His mind recalls the prices of eyeglasses from 20 years ago. So, even the cheapest place today seems too expensive.

Refusing to get glasses that he really needs is bad enough. But the worst part was that he later totally forgot that he had refused to buy the lenses, and he kept pestering my wife about when they would go to pick up his new glasses. After about the hundredth time explaining that he did not order the glasses, my wife couldn’t take it anymore.

Remarkably, my son was more patient with my dad than we were.

And that was despite my dad not being patient or understanding of Kai.

My dad often badgered Kai when he did not promptly answer a question. I’ve long since stopped trying to explain to my dad that a back-and-forth exchange like that is still challenging for Kai, instead opting to prompt Kai to respond to his grandfather.

At one point, when Kai overheard my wife and I talking about my dad, he looked up the BrainPop movie on Alzheimer’s.

He also noticed that my dad repeated things.

“You always say that,” Kai grumbled, when my dad told him once again how much he enjoyed his meal.

And yet, despite all that, Kai still wanted to go to the Botanic Garden with Ojiichan.



And play games with him.



Perhaps Kai’s autism makes him less aware of all the challenges his grandfather poses.

But perhaps it is something else.

Is it possible that the pure heart of a child is more forgiving and understanding than our adult ones?

Holiday Festivities

I picked up my dad on Saturday, as he will be staying with us this week and celebrating Christmas with us.

For as long as he has been a grandfather, I have never known him to buy any presents for his grandkids. He is generous with cash gifts, but he has never gone to a store and picked out something for my nephews or my son. Heck, I don’t remember him buying things for my sister and I either except for an occasional toolbox or something like that. I think my mom and aunt did all of the Christmas shopping.

So I was more than a little surprised when he gave Kai a gift bag with several items inside. Kai’s favorite thing was the box of Hot Wheels cars.

Though my dad was more interested in trying to show Kai how to play the harmonica, which my dad is very talented at playing.

He also got Kai a game that we played that night, and a jigsaw puzzle that we haven’t opened yet. I found out later that my dad’s neighbor had taken him to the store and helped him pick out these items.

The next day, the three of us went to our local botanic garden to take in a special holiday exhibit of miniature trains winding their way through a village of small replicas of Chicago landmarks constructed out of all-natural materials collected in the wild: gourds, pine cones, bark and wooden logs, acorns, eucalyptus pods, grains and grasses, and more.

Kai enjoyed watching the trains, my dad loved the flowers, and I marveled at the buildings.

Here you see one portion with the Hancock Building on the left, Navy Pier in front of it, the old Sears Tower (now Willis Tower) in the center, Union Station in the foreground, and Marina Towers toward the right. A train is passing in front of the Sears Tower.

My wife didn’t come with us, so I took a picture of her favorite building, the Crate & Barrel store. ;)

After we took in this exhibit, we went to the greenhouses.

My dad has always loved plants and flowers – he had one of the nicest gardens in our neighborhood when I was growing up – so it wasn't surprising that he enjoyed our visit. But I was surprised at how much interest Kai showed in seeing all of the plants.

As we went from the Semi-Tropical to the Tropical to the Arid greenhouses, we saw banana trees, orchids, cactus, among many others plants. Kai and Ojiichan both especially liked the many cactuses they had.

After that, we ventured out into the cold and walked over to the Japanese garden.

Kai wanted to see much more of the Botanic Garden; we had only seen a portion of it. But my dad was getting cold and it was time for lunch so we headed home. But, Kai’s interest spurred me to become a member so we can make many return trips there this year.

And at home, Mom’s Christmas Cookie Shop opened with Kai as Chief Decorator.

Hope you are enjoying the holidays, too.

Merry Christmas!

A Challenging Time with Ojiichan

My dad stayed with us last week. It was a long week.

My dad really enjoys visiting us. He loves Kai and my wife.

Kai likes it whenever we have visitors. A new person to play is always a good thing in his mind. And I think he senses the love his family has for him whenever one of his grandparents is here.

There were many opportunities for grandfather and grandson to interact.

On the positive side, I was so happy that they each made numerous attempts to engage each other.

I don’t recall my dad ever sitting on the floor and playing with my sister or me when we were little kids. And he was not exactly the playful grandfather to my nephews when they were small either. With Kai, while he wasn’t constantly playing with him, he did play Wii with us every night, and try to talk to Kai numerous times.

And that is where we had some challenges.

It is often hard for us to get Kai to engage in a conversation with us. He doesn’t like to answer our questions. He only wants to talk about the things that interest him, not the things that interest us. He does not look at us when he talks.

Sometimes Kai will respond if you wait him out. Sometimes he will talk if you keep encouraging him. Talking to him requires patience.

Unfortunately, my dad does not have much patience.

My wife and I could easily sense my dad’s impatience whenever Kai did not respond to him. The irritation showed in his face. But sometimes it also came out in his words.

“Is your name Kai?”

Kai would usually respond that it was. And that would prompt my dad to go on.

“Then why don’t you answer me when I talk to you? Don’t you hear me? Boy oh boy!”

After one of the first times this happened, I spoke to my dad and reminded him that Kai has autism, and as a result, communicating with other people is one of his major challenges. I told him that he needs to be patient, and it is better to be more encouraging than to get angry.

My dad did not seem to feel that there was anything wrong with how he talked to his grandson. I don’t think he really grasped what I was trying to tell him. But when my wife said the same thing to him, he apologized and said he would not do it again.

Of course, that was not the case.

With my dad’s Alzheimer’s, he likely forgot our conversation before the evening was over. And so the next day and the each day for the rest of the week, he often had the same remarks for Kai.

Rather than have the same discussion with my dad each day, my wife and I tried to prompt Kai to respond to my dad more quickly. But it was not always easy. When Kai is watching a video or studying his Lego catalog, it is hard to get his attention. And so we saw several more occasions where my dad got impatient with Kai.

Remarkably, Kai did not seem to get upset with my dad’s badgering. He still wanted to play with Ojiichan.

The irony of it is that Kai had ample opportunity to get as frustrated with my dad as he was with Kai. My dad is very hard of hearing. There were plenty of times when Kai said something to him and my dad did not respond because he did not realize that Kai was talking to him. When we could, my wife and I asked Kai to repeat what he said and to speak louder. We got my dad’s attention and let him know that Kai was trying to talk to him.

On those occasions, Kai never seemed to get impatient. He always nicely repeated what he said.

By the end of the week, I was exhausted. And I was only with my dad during the evenings. My wife was even more worn out. She was a saint for spending the whole week with my dad, listening repeatedly to his same old stories, while I was at work.

But my dad enjoyed his visit immensely. He kept telling me how much he enjoyed my wife’s hospitality and home cooking, and how much Kai had grown and changed.

I don’t think he really remembered many details, but the good feelings stayed with him.

With holidays coming up, we will be spending a lot more time together. I will have to keep in mind that as much as I preach to my dad that he needs to be patient with a boy who has autism, I need to be patient with an old man who has Alzheimer’s.

In that way, I can take a lesson from my son.