The favourite steaming cup of coffee - "Hot as hell and black as mud", as he used to describe it ... the family skiing and hiking trips ... the reading of stories out loud at bedtime ... these are among my memories of my father. Dad succumbed to Alzheimer's disease and passed away on June 20, 2004 at 79.
Although Alzheimer's steals memories and transforms an individual into a shell of who he/she once was, Dad always remained his dignified, patient self. But watching the condition gradually take my father away from me remains as one of the hardest things I have ever experienced. I often say that I lost father twice - once when he forgot who I was and again when he died.
As a quiet man, Dad didn't share much of his life -even with his own family. What I do know is that he was born as an only child and his own father died when Dad was quite young. Dad always loved books and grew to share his passion as a University English professor. I still regret not knowing more and never thinking to ask until his final years when it was too late ... by then, Dad had lost his ability to speak. Alzheimer's disease turned out to be a blessing in disguise ... the condition knocked down Dad's thick walls of privacy and revealed him for who he really was - a caring, generous but reserved man.
Thank you Dad for sharing what you did with me - my gifts from him include his favourite walking hat, an admiration of mountains and a love of writing.
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