Alzheimers is a horrid, cruel disease.

When I know bad news is coming, I like to prepare for it. Scary illness diagnosis? I research it until I know every possible scenario. Long-term illness diagnosis? Same thing - I find out as much as I can about the stages and progression and arm myself with statistics so I'll be ready when the inevitable happens. So, when my dad-by-choice was diagnosed with Alzheimer's, I researched the stages, determined where he was, and relied on regular updates from my mom-by-choice. We've been blessed to have had so many great, coherent years with him - after he was diagnosed, it was determined that he had begun showing symptoms about the time I went to live with them. I was 8 then, and now I'm 36 - so he has done remarkably well! By the time he was diagnosed, he had lived with the disease for over 10 years without any of us realizing it. He was still at an early stage when he started medications, and they were very successful in keeping him stable. My kids have gotten to know their Papa and build many, many memories with him, and that blesses my socks off. My Papa was so very special to me, but with my dad out of the picture, I always worried that my kids wouldn't have that. I should have known that God would take care of it! Uncle Shorty has been the best Papa I ever could have wanted for them and they love him dearly!
Still, with all my preparations, I knew what was coming. Amazingly enough, the knowing hasn't really softened the blows of this awful disease. The first time he didn't know me when I called, I cried. The first time he looked into my MoMo's big brown eyes and didn't know her, we both cried. As Aunt Virginia shared her struggles in dealing with his violent, angry outbursts, I cried. I knew that the strong, godly, quiet leader was disappearing as his brain deteriorated. The more he progresses, the more I seize the moments we have and research what's coming next. I know what happens, I know the next steps and the indignities he will suffer as time passes, and over the last few months we've realized the disease is now taking over at a rapid rate. He gets lost, he forgets to stop at stop signs or red lights, he sleeps only a few hours at a time and wakes up thinking it's a new day. He gets angry and throws fits, he collects 'treasures' and hoards them, and the list of people he's forgotten or failed to recognize keeps getting longer. I know where this is going. I'm prepared. I am strong. I will be the rock for my mom-by-choice and my children to lean on. I'm not a crier, not one who falls apart, so I will be the strong tower they can turn to as we travel this road together. I can handle it.

So why am I in tears? If I'm so strong, if I'm so prepared, if I knew this day was coming, why am I crushed to hear my sweet, wonderful, loving mom-by-choice tell me that he didn't recognize her on Sunday? I knew the peace we've had wouldn't last forever, and yet every new step knocks me over. I'm thankful he eventually remembered, but my heart breaks just trying to imagine the pain she must have felt as he asked her where his wife was. I know how it feels when he doesn't recognize me. Her pain must be so much more! They've been married for 58 years. She was the last person he would forget, since she is his anchor and the one he must have near him in order to function. This is not a little thing, a small glitch, a phone call I'll forget tomorrow. This is a moment I will remember forever. I've done the research, so I know this is more significant than any other person he's forgotten. I know that, combined with his other recent symptoms, he's probably not going to know any of us soon. And believe me, I'm so very, very thankful for the time we've had. I know that I should be focusing on the good, thanking God for how long we've had him, and yet I sit here blubbering like a baby, the sobs coming in waves and the tears flowing anew after I thought they'd stopped. Me, the strong one, the non-emotional rock....I'm a mess. So please, pray for my mom-by-choice. This is so hard for her, and her health is not good. Pray that her emotional and physical strength will be supernatural, provided by God, to sustain her through what we know is coming. Pray for their children, my brothers & sisters - by-choice, who are losing their dad just like I am, whose children are losing their Papa just like mine are. I don't know how quickly the next blow will come, so my prayer is that God gives us sustenance to handle them all, one at a time. Thank you, friends, for listening and for praying. So many of you are hurting, and yet you still take time to read my ramblings and pray for my family. You are treasures, each of you, and I am thankful for every single person who sends up a prayer for us. Those of you who know my precious children, please say a special prayer for them and give them a hug when you see them. We love him so very, very much.