Are You, You?

Dad enjoyed a day with his caregiver while I went to a conference for the day.  After the caregiver  left, he looked at me in his fatherly way and asked, “Are you, you?” Be still my heart. I said “Yes, It’s me.” He smiled and squeezed my hand.

In previous years, Dad has been able to go with me and sit in for my sessions, but now I only include him for short, close-to-home events.  After a presentation a few weeks ago, as I returned to my chair next to Dad, he quickly stood up and gave me a big kiss on the cheek, then just as quickly sat back down. I received another of these kisses after we selected new eyeglass frames for him.  Lewy Body Dementia has affected  most of Dad’s speech, yet he still finds ways of expressing himself.  

These communications are physically face-to-face within inches. Well inside the sphere of intimate relationships between father and daughter. I’ve learned that when I want to connect with Dad, all I need to do is get physically close. At 65 years of age, I still feel everything a child might experience from a loving father. It is profound that we have this connection mostly without words. Not because of me, but because of my father who took the lead in our relationship the day I was born.