Not the best of days today. Not the worst of days either but that fact only somewhat helps. I sit at work and cannot focus on anything for long. So many things are happening in my life. Significant things. I feel so overwhelmed. It's hard for me to admit that. My Father's condition is having a greater toll on me than I'd like to admit. So maybe if I can just some stuff out maybe it will make me feel better.

My Dad is a jerk. A dumb lovable jerk who easily takes jokes to far. He's never been much for talking about his emotions or spiritual, religious beliefs. I've only ever seen him cry once; when my grandmother died. And that wasn't even a full on cry. Just some tears that he casually wipes away. All I've been able to get out of him about religion is that he grew up in a Holiness Church and that he thinks he's committed to many sins to be forgiven. He thinks that while there a good people in churches that organized religion is mostly a scam for money. Actually he thinks almost anything organized is about money. He's so cynical.

He fought in the Korean War and Vietnam War. He retired after 20 years in the Army before I was born. That's why there's such a huge age gap. My half brother is 19 years older than me. I wasn't supposed to happen. I was my mother's little miracle. So I was raised as an only child since my brother was never in the same house as me. He's never talked much about the wars other than generics. I know he was shot more than once and that he did some things there he wasn't proud of. Growing up we'd watch war movies and documentaries about the era and he'd comment on what was true and what wasn't because "he was there."

Dad's approach to child rearing was old school. I learned the fears of belts and switches at an early age. You only have to get spanked once to know not to do something again. When I was too big to spank I had toys and videos games taken away as punishment. Needless to say I was a good boy and never got in trouble at school because I knew I'd get it much would at home. When I started driving and going out with friends I had "come of age" in his eyes and started letting me learn from my own mistakes. I had no curfew and even when stuff happened Dad would just scold me a little. My brother says I had it easy. He grew his hair out while Dad was away and when he came back he threatened to kick him out of the house and disown him if he didn't get it cut. Dad hated hippies.

Both my parents smoked heavily until last year. Dad had an "I know it's bad but I don't give f" attitude about it. Even when Mom quit after being diagnosed with COPD Dad kept on going. I guess he either didn't buy into the dangers of second hand smoke and just didn't care. He finally quit last November after being hospitalized from a breathing fit that turned out to be his own COPD. That's about when the memory issues started.

At first, it was just casual stuff. Stupid stuff you would just associate with old age anyway. Back in March, he had a violent seizure. Then things seemed to escalate. When he came to he didn't know why he was in the hospital. He just wanted to leave and go home. He spent about 4 days in the hospital and went home. Then he started forgetting things more. Short term memory stuff. He'd go shopping and keep buying the same stuff forgetting he already bought it last time. There are 9 things of ice cream in my parents freezer. 3 copies of each flavor. He started using the wrong thing for the wrong job. He was putting laundry detergent in the dishwasher. Mom and Chanin were seeing these things more than me. Mom for obvious reason and Chanin because she does over when she can to help out with things. I was in denial. The first time it really clicked something was really wrong was 3 months back or so when we were outside and he asked when I got a new car. I told him not to be silly. I've had that car for almost 10 years and he even went to the dealer with me to make sure I wasn't getting conned. He didn't remember that. Then my brother called and said he was worried because Dad had called him every day for a week to talk about the exact same thing and didn't remember talking about it before. At this point even Dad knew something was wrong. So when my brother took him to a regular doctor visit he told the doctor that he was having memory problems. The doctor prescribed Aricept, which is primarily for Alzheimer's. So I got the prescription. A week later we came over to check on them and I counted the pills. He hadn't taken a single one. He wasn't remembering to take them. Mom is oxygen. She has her mind and her memory just fine but she can't force him to take his pills. He'd fight it saying it was a waste of money and won't help.

So that leads to where we are now. I honestly can't stand going to the hospital to see him. There's just this terrible feeling in my gut that tells me he's not going to get better this time. Every time he's been knocked down he's bounced right back up to take another swing. This time it's different. This time, it's like he's not even trying. It's like he's giving up. It's like whatever is left of him that is him knows what is happening to him and he just doesn't want to live that way. I was told that he's refusing to eat even though he could if he wanted to. He has physically recovered but his spirit just seems broken. That's not the Dad I know. That's why I can't really stand going up there. I don't want to remember him like that. And yesterday they said he would have to go into a "Long Term Care Facility" which just translates to nursing home. I effing hate nursing homes. I don't want him there. But he can't be at home. Mom can't take care of him. We can't take care of him. It's like being stuck between a rock and a hard place.

We keep praying for a recovery. That somehow against all logic that God will perform a miracle for us. But I also pray for the ability to cope with this if it's what is meant to be. It's the only thing keeping me from losing it.

I hope I haven't depressed anyone. Thanks for putting up with me. Please continue to pray for us.