When I started posting about my grandfather, I did it so that I would always remember this time with him, the good and the bad. I wasn’t expecting many responses, but your comments have really touched me. I wish I had the words to respond to each and every one of them, but I did want to say ‘thank you’. It means a lot.
…well, you get the idea. Dad mentioned the other night that he really wanted a camera like mine: simple point-and-shoot digital (Canon PowerShot A520) with the capability to take short video clips.
Now, I’ve been wanting a new camera for a month or so. Don’t get me wrong, my PowerShot is a great camera (and a birthday present from my best friend), but I’m getting fairly serious about photography and need to take a step-up with my equipment. So when Dad said he needed a camera, I offered to sell him mine at a reasonable price and have the money go towards the purchase of a new camera.
Specifically, this camera:
It’s so gorgeous I’m practically drooling. It’s perfect for a moderate amateur like myself, and it’s not terribly expensive (just under $700). Now the only thing is waiting to save up the funds. I have to tell myself this is a lesson in patience…
*dreamy sigh*
I realize my blogging has been sporadic. During the school year, the internet and blogging become my escape from rigid academics. But when I have the freedom of a self-guided schedule, the need is not so pressing.
I’ve been doing a lot of casual reading, which was one of my goals for this summer. So far I’ve read The Secret Life of Bees, Snow Flower and the Secret Fan, and yes, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, all excellent books. Right now I’m digging into The Mountain of Silence for our church book group, and I’m really enjoying it so far. Along those lines, I’d like to pick up another one of Frederica Matthewes-Green’s books before the summer is up…
My goals for the month of August are to create my budget for the upcoming year, help organize the kidlet’s school goals (Hannah wants to learn about Scottish history and culture, among other things), and finish the remodeling of my room. We’re moving my loft bed down a foot or so, and shifting things around in order to provide some much needed storage and seating.
Now if my animals could get it in their minds to stay healthy and spare me from vet bills, we’ll be doing great.
Mom took Papa with her to the grocery store today. He did fairly well, but on the way home he said, “What if I got a bike and rode it down to Georgetown?” “Dad, that’s crazy. I’m not even going to answer that because it’s never going to happen.” Mom and Papa have an interesting dynamic: she can be more blunt with him than any other family member, and he gives her flack that he wouldn’t give to the rest of us.
“Well,” he said, “I’m going to buy a car and I’m going to drive down.” “Fine, Dad, you do that. And you’ll get arrested and put in a nursing home with all the other Alzheimer’s patients.” *pause* “That went in one ear and out the other.” “Sure, Dad…okay.”
“Does it bother you when I share stuff about Pop?” she asks me. Not really, I reply.
In the movies, aging parents and grandparents with dementia are sweet, doddering old folks that shuffle around aimlessly and never remember your name. In the real world there’s fear and there’s anger. How else would someone respond to losing their home, their independence, and their very grip on reality?
“He has the potential,” Mom says, “To be one of those kind, gentle old folks. But he’s not ready to accept the fact that this is the way things are. He’ll come around in time.”
