Funny Valentine

We all know how annoying it is to see Christmas decorations in the stores as soon as the Halloween goodies are put away for the year (or even alongside them). Imagine what it is like for someone who has no orientation to time. Dad is constantly pulling out his cell phone to check the date and time – and is especially confused when he sees red and green in the stores only to pull his phone out and find out it is October. He is more concerned now than he has ever been about holidays. (This is the guy who once bought an anniversary card – probably at the urging of my sister and me – and gave it to Mom unsigned.) As soon as he sees the decorations, I can anticipate the next questions: “What are we doing for [fill in the holiday here]? Have I gotten your mom anything?” And so, every major holiday means that a Tuesday is filled with shopping for mom. As we know, Dad likes shopping. J

Of course, I am not the only caregiver who has these conversations with Dad. This means that, often, mom gets, in the very least, two cards for every holiday.  Well, technically, she hasn’t received all of them yet. You see, with the best of intentions, Dad “hides” the cards when he gets them home from the store so that mom cannot find them. Well, he can’t find them when we call to remind him to give the card to her. Even if I help him hide the card so that I will know where to find it later, he moves it. The first Valentine’s Day after his Alzheimer’s diagnosis, I took Dad to the drug store to pick out a card for Mom. After a lot of consideration, he finally found one. We bought it, took it home and Dad “hid” it. When I called him on Valentine’s to remind him to sign it and give it to Mom, he said that he already had. I found out later that it was another card that Dad had bought with my great-aunt and uncle. The card that he had picked out with me was nowhere to be found.

This has happened for pretty much every holiday. (Fortunately, I always keep any gifts at my house.) This year, it was status quo for Valentine’s – Mom received a card, but not the one Dad had picked out with me. Thank goodness for such thoughtful caregivers! A month or so after the holiday, I got a text message from Mom saying that she had just found a Valentine’s card buried in the back of Dad’s closet. We both had a good laugh about it. Hey – why shouldn’t every day be Valentine’s Day?

Like everything about this terrible disease, we hope that there is a purpose and plan at work here. I think that God’s intent for the holiday cards going MIA is that, eventually, Dad will not be able to pick out a card for Mom and maybe the cards will be found then. In the meantime, maybe some will be found on the especially rough days of caretaking, when Mom just needs a reminder that she is loved, thought about, and that she will one day be rewarded for upholding the vow “in sickness and health.”

Thanks for being here!

Dad and his Valentine