My Dad died on September 10, 2024 at the age of 77. Fourteen years ago he was diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease, likely from exposure to Agent Orange during the Vietnam War. A few years ago he was also diagnosed with dementia. Anyone who has known someone affected by these diseases knows the slow slide away from reality and the terrible disconnect between brain and body that completely changes the person. My Mom was his full-time caregiver for the past several years, a taxing role that consumed her life. It was not the retirement they both hoped for.
We knew that he didn't have much time left, but it's always a surprise when the end really comes. Saying that it's a huge life adjustment for my Mom, and the rest of us, going from a family unit of 5 to 4, is an understatement.
That's me sitting on my Dad's lap! Can you tell it was the 80s? |
My Dad had seven siblings, can you imagine? (Eight kids! Catholics, amirite?) He was always good with babies, raising me and my brother and sister, but also from growing up with abundant babies in the house. My grandparents owned a milk products business, making butter and cheese. This is how I learned that white cheddar and yellow cheddar are actually the same thing: yellow cheddar just has coloring in it. The building still exists and is run by the family as a deli; check out The Cheese Shop if you're ever in Ottawa, Illinois. (And if you are ever there and are not related to me... why?)
Dad and baby Cora |
My Dad graduated from the Culinary Institute of America (the other CIA) in a time when buffet art was a thing. Picture animals made out of meat, cheese and fruit fanned out in intricate patterns. Later, knowing he was likely to be drafted, he joined the Army and was sent to Vietnam. After a period of time clearing the jungle, some higher-ups got wind that they had a verified CIA graduate on their hands, and a helicopter landed one day, whisking him away to a much better job as a chef.
Dad and Mary |
For the majority of his career, he worked as an Executive Chef at large hotels. I remember Easters and Thanksgivings when I was a kid spent in hotel dining rooms; my Mom would bring us all there when he was working on big holidays. When people hear about his culinary training and career, they always make a comment like, "Wow, you must have eaten well at home!" Well, no; my Mom cooked us most meals. I completely get not wanting to come home and continue to do your job! Sometimes he would make pizza dough or big batches of pasta sauce, but we certainly never got an artistic buffet spread.
Dad and baby Mary |
After he retired, he finally had time to put his creativity into action, and took oil painting classes. He probably would have continued to paint had Parkinson's not taken away his hand-eye coordination. I'm so glad that I was the lucky recipient of his artistic gene. My Dad and I went to see the National Symphony Orchestra, and Sarah Brightman singing opera, when the rest of my family deemed classical music too boring (i.e., not a sport). He was a fan of Edith Piaf and history, when he could find time to read.
Dad and his mom, my grandma who died only 5 years ago at the age of 100 |
I'm very sorry for your loss! My dad's in the beginning/middle stages of dementia and it is ROUGH. My mother bears the brunt of it. My sibs and I help when we can but it's never enough. And it does make me appreciate both of my parents more; I try to take the small moments of lucidity with joy.
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry to hear that your dad has dementia as well - it's so tough on everyone. My mom found a lot of help with local support groups, and later with CNAs who could come watch my Dad so she could at least get out of the house. Thinking of you and your family as you navigate this tough journey.
DeleteOh, Sarah, what a lovely remembrance for your father. It is so hard to be a caretaker and to be there in the very end (things go slow until they don't!). Hugs to you and I hope that memories of the good days will bring you peace and joy in the future.
ReplyDeleteThank you :)
DeleteMy condolences -- your father seems like a very interesting man, and your post is a beautiful tribute.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Matt :)
DeleteYour father sounds like a really remarkable man, and I am sure his passing is going to leave a huge void in your lives. I am so sorry for your loss and so sorry that he was so ill for so long. Both of those diseases are extremely difficult to watch - and of course to go through. I am sending all the love and hugs. Thank you for sharing with us, thank you for introducing us all to such a man. Also, what a beautiful photo of the two of you on your wedding day - and yes, the 80s were such a time. I love those photos. xoxoxo
ReplyDeleteThanks, Nicole. I appreciate your words :)
DeleteI'm so sorry for your loss. Thank you for sharing these snapshots of your father with us.
ReplyDeleteThank you :)
DeleteWow - what wonderful memories you have. I've seen how difficult dementia is and how awful it is to watch someone lose so much of themselves. I'm thankful that you wrote this in memory of him. May his memories be a blessing.
ReplyDeleteIt's terrible how common these diseases are and how many people have experience with them. It just makes you appreciate the good times even more!
DeleteWhat a beautiful tribute to a wonderful man. Thinking of you as you navigate through this difficult time.
ReplyDeleteThank you :)
DeleteThank you for sharing some very precious memories of your father. I am so sorry to hear of his passing and will think of you in the coming weeks. A wonderful tribute.
ReplyDeleteThank you :) I appreciate the thoughts.
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