Dad

My father died Tuesday afternoon. He was 81 and had Parkinson's Disease. A year ago he and my mom moved in with my brother, and I'm certain my father was very happy during that time. My mother was with him when he died. Parkinson's had robbed him of his true self, and I'm not sure he even knew what was happening at the end. But I'm certain he knew his family loved him, and I take some comfort in that.

And I know he is now at peace. The pain will pass for me, as well. But right now, it's time to grieve, to comfort my mother and to try to ease some of my brother's burden.

"Be at peace and put aside all anxious thoughts and imaginations." --St. Francis de Sales

My Father's Eyes, Part II

My father's Parkinson's has progressed to a point where my mother can no longer take care of him by herself. An infection put him in the hospital for awhile, and then into a long-term care facility. Mrs. DocLarry and I paid a visit to him shortly after he'd been moved to the "facility." He was extremely unhappy, and I can't say as I blame him. Most of the "patients" appeared to be waiting to die. It was not a pleasant place.

My mother, having recognized her inability to care for my father alone, and not wanting to be on her own either, finally decided they should both move in with my brother for a while. He lives nearby and is very willing to take them in. But he lives in a split-level house, which means my father is limited to staying upstairs. It's certainly better than the "facility" he'd been in, but it is also not the ideal place for him.

Still, my father is happier, my mother doesn't have to go it alone, and my brother is being the good son. It's a start.

Happy Birthday, Mrs. DocLarry

The most important person in the lives of Baxter and DocLarry is celebrating her birthday today. An angel arrived in Omaha, Nebraska on December 5, 1961. She brightened my life on May 11, 1994. Baxter found her in February 1995.

Happy Birthday, Mrs. DocLarry!

Elderly Parents

My father has Parkinson's Disease. It's fairly advanced and is affecting his mind. A week ago he went into the intensive care unit with a urinary infection and had become very disoriented. He doesn't recognize his own family much of the time, and doesn't know how he got to the hospital. He does joke with the hospital staff and at least recognizes his surroundings as a hospital.

My mother can no longer take care of my father, so my father may never go home again. He needs the care a facility can provide. He needs the nursing and physical therapy that he cannot get at home or at his children's homes.

I know this is necessary. I know it is what is best for him and my mother. I know we're not sticking him in a home because we don't want to take care of him. I know it is the right thing to do.

It still feels wrong. It still hurts. And I feel guilty. Time can be cruel.

Family Time

A few weeks back Mrs. DocLarry and I traveled north to visit the parental units as well as my Canadian niece and nephew. Oh, and their parents, my sister and the Canook. Given the many miles between Ozarkland and Canada I don't often get to see my only niece and nephew, so I consider such visits special. My parents are also getting up there in years, my father suffering from Parkinson's.

This trip proved to be extra special as we viewed a DVD of my niece performing at a national Orff conference. Never heard of Orff? Neither had I until this happened. And it is really quite fascinating. From the Orff Canada web site:

Carl Orff (1895-1982) is probably best known as the composer of such works as Carmina Burana and Catulli Carmina, but it is his work with "Music for Children" which has inspired a global movement in music education.

The Orff approach to Music Education is holistic, experiential and process oriented. It is for all children, not just the most musically or intellectually gifted and encompasses aural, visual and kinesthetic learners.

Orff's philosophy is based on solid, pedagogical principles. A structured, sequential development of knowledge and skills encourages joyful participation, creativity, and personal musical growth from all participants. The Orff approach taps the very essence of our beings. Children learn through doing, exploring and improvising. They are active participants in an integrated, guided process, one which allows for differing musical abilities. In the Orff approach, no child is neglected.

The Orff philosophy combines the elements of speech, rhythm, movement, dance, and song. And at the heart of all this is improvisation - the instinct children have to create their own melodies, to explore their imaginations.

The organization holds a national conference every two years and schools compete to perform at the conference. My niece was a member of a group chosen to perform, and ultimately wowed the audience. It's hard to describe an Orff performance. Students play recorders, the metallophone, xylophone, glockenspiel, and other percussive instruments, as well as perform dance and some voice work.

The effects of Parkinson's are showing in my father, but seemed to lessen somewhat when he was around his grandchildren. I enjoyed sitting on the sidelines watching the interaction between grandparent and child, especially when both would end up with big grins.

And while I know it's not a competition, I've often felt a bit overshadowed by my brother when it comes to being an uncle. He lives in Iowa so the Canadians always see him when visiting the grandparents. His location also makes a trip to Canada a bit easier and he's visited them far more often than I.

However, this visit, I got to be the "fun" uncle. On our last day I got into a pillow fight. My nephew started it, but my niece soon joined in for a two-front attack. The nephew had no qualms about climbing aboard Uncle Doc Larry, putting a pillow across my face blinding me to the flanking attack of his sister. Silliness abounded, noise was made, photos were snapped, and DocLarry napped on the drive back to Springtown.

The best part? The smile on my father's face and the laughter in his eyes.