My Dad, Alzheimer’s and Father’s Day Reflections

Laurie Taylor

Dad called me on Memorial Day that year and asked when we were coming over. He said lunch was ready but was worried because none of the kids or grandkids had arrived yet. After spending the previous day preparing all of our favorites, he had gotten up before dawn to put the meat on the grill. 

I thought it was strange that Dad hadn’t invited us over for the holiday because this was our tradition and he loved cooking for us. Now he was calling to ask where we were. 

Not wanting to embarrass him, I told him we were running late and that we’d be there shortly. I called my siblings and discovered that Dad had said nothing to them either. All of us quickly jumped in our cars with our kids in tow and headed to our parents’ home. And, thus, began our long journey with Alzheimer’s Disease.

My dad was a quiet, humble man of few words. Introverted and never comfortable being the center of attention, he was a brilliant man who had worked as an engineer for an oil company for over forty years. Dad had a huge heart and anonymously helped scores and scores of people through the years. Whenever he would receive the news that a friend or employee had lost a family member or was sick, he would head to the kitchen, cook a delicious meal and deliver it to them. If he learned that someone was having a hard time and needed money, he would anonymously send money to them. 

Dad might have been Mr. Kirkland to everyone else, but his favorite title was “Pappy”, the name his grandchildren called him. He had the patience of Job, and the kids loved spending time with him. He raised rabbits as a hobby and enjoyed teaching the grandkids all about them.

Nothing made him happier than when all the kids and grands were at his house. He never had a lot to say, but the smile on his face said it all. 

Alzheimer’s stole him from us one memory at a time. I vividly remember the first time he didn’t recognize me. He was still the kind, gracious gentleman he had always been and quietly asked my name. “My name is Laurie. I am your daughter and I love you with all my heart,” I responded. “You don’t say,” he said with a smile.

Alzheimer’s moved slowly during the first leg of this long journey, but then it seemed as if he fell off a cliff and the decline was rapid. It wasn’t too much later that I received a phone call from the nurse in the wee hours of the morning telling me that he had died peacefully and quietly.

My dad was my person. He never said a negative word about anyone. He was humble and never sought attention. He taught me that all people deserve to be treated with kindness and dignity. I always knew he loved me. I also knew he was proud of me although he never verbally told me. Once when he traveled abroad to lead a training for his company, he sent me a letter telling me all about his trip. At the end he wrote, “I’m proud of you.” I sobbed with a heart full of gratitude for a father who was always there for me and always encouraged me.

Dad, Alzheimer’s eventually stole your life, but it can never take away the love and respect I have for you. I love you and will forever be so very proud of you!  Happy Father’s Day!