We started worrying about Henry when he parked his car downtown one day then forgot where he parked it. Someone called the police and they located the car and escorted Henry home. One time, instead of pulling into the driveway of a local church grounds for a card game at their hall, he drove into a field instead. He showed up that night in our driveway without his glasses. I asked him where they were and he thought he had them on.
Aunt Sue knew about these episodes of forgetfulness. Henry probably forgot even more then what he let on to her. But when he started to wander, even in the house, and lost his appetite, Sue took him to the doctor , something he hated to d.; Doctors were all "quacks" to Henry .
He was admitted to the hospital and eventually to a nursing home. Ironically, he was a resident at the same nursing home where I would later work as a social worker.
That broke my heart, seeing Henry waste away from Dementia, remembering the good times we had together over the years, reminding myself that this confusion and combativeness with staff wasn't the Uncle Henry I knew and loved.
Sue lost hope too, seeing Henry fade away, first mentally then physically. He fell and broke a hip, developed pneumonia and died on Christmas Day.
He would remember me at times when I stopped by to visit him on my breaks. He smiled with a twinkle in his eye when we talked about card games and cheese steaks in Philly. He knew the good times yet couldn't tell me what he did five minutes earlier.
When Henry died it wa like s losing my father all over again. Sue didn't last long without him. She missed his companionship, even the arguments, and she shared his fate in time, ending up in the same nursing home and dying a few years later.
An entire family gone. All the years of working at the tire plant, the beautiful home in town, everything was gone but the memories.
As a final tribute, I bought a brand new deck of cards and placed them in Henry's coat pocket as he lay in state. I scribbled the inscription on the pack: "To Uncle Henry- May you find the Royal Flush in Heaven that you never found on Earth."
After Henry was gone life wasn't as much fun. I missed him and would never forget him, and how he made my life a little more cheerful, how he always made me smile and made me feel good about myself.
It was getting harder and harder for Mom to handle my care needs, especially the stairs in our three-story house. She literally had to carry me everywhere and it was killing her. So she did a very brave, bold and bright thing: she sold the house.
We moved into a new rancher across town. She used the money she got when Dad took an early retirement prior to his death. It wasn't the full benefits he would've gotten had he survived, but half was better than nothing. It allowed Mom to purchase the one-story home. Most of my siblings were on their own by now, and without steps to contend with, both inside and out, life would be easier for both Mom and me.
Some people thought she was crazy selling the house. But Mom knew what she was doing. It was a move which would change ort lives forever.
Things always happen for a reason. If poor Dad had not passed away maybe we never would've moved. And if we didn't move, maybe my life would've turned out entirely different. Dad was looking down on us, and after the Penn fiasco I firmly believed he was guiding me every step of the way.
Without stairs I began to assert my independence. I learned how to toilet myself- no more bedpans- shower myself ( with the help of a shower chair and shower spray), and now had the freedom to push my wheelchair all around the house, even outside if I wanted. It may seem like a small thing, but I finally felt free, like I was released from a prison.
I was no longer fracturing as often and now I had new-found independence. I felt almost "normal", which was a whole new world.
Maybe sometimes we take the small but important things for granted. Pushing my chair whenever and wherever I wanted to go, even from my bedroom to the kitchen across the house, or sit outside on a summer night or wheel down the driveway to get the mail or the newspaper, felt so liberating. I began to feel better about myself, both physically and emotionally. My self-esteem and confidence grew, and I wondered where this would all lead me.
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