The gift to “Project Him”

January 24, 2024.

Sitting here watching my dad breathe heavy on a Covid machine… his life flashes before my eyes. Well or the part of it I know and experienced as his only daughter. My dad. My hero. My guy. Always up for a kid like adventure or being the favorite adult in the room… the life of the party, entrepreneur, photographer, media pioneer, drone pilot, father, husband, brother and friend living w/ frontal lobal dementia. So many stories come to mind as I sit here trying to process this moment w/ him.

Earliest memories of him remind me of a rabbit he rebought me because the neighbor dog ate my first one… he drove all over Houston to find an identical rabbit and guess what, he thought he did! Brought it home to me and I told him “that’s not my rabbit”… I was completely unfazed about losing the original rabbit. But he did what he had to for me not to experience tragedy or loss at a young age. Never thought of it that way until I began to feel a chance of loss with him. He was my protector and wanted to make sure I wasn’t sad about my rabbit… but what about when HE is gone.

Days later he is still in the hospital… I knew this day/moment or experience with him would come one day. We never know what day that be but it’s coming. Today, I sit in the dark trying to process what I am experiencing. He is resting and I can still hear that belabored breath. Nothing sounds like a Covid machine when someone is gasping for every breath. The loud breaths remind me to breathe and live my life… knowing we will all someday have this moment of a last or hard breath. You always hear life is short… but it is.

In the ER, my brother and I experienced so many parts of him we didn’t necessarily need to experience like ever… but the laughing and closeness I felt to my dad and brother were something I can’t explain. How can I bottle it and have it forever? In that moment he had our total focus on him. Yes, he was performing…and yes, he loved it. My dad telling everyone he was at Disney land… or every time we left the room we were headed to sonic… or that he had a heart attack when he had covid. Oh and when he told me he was busting out and taking an Uber home… I said go for it! In these moments, something reminded me that we are who we are… we are blessed to have family and have a moment for humor in a family time of crisis. I think about all my parents have taught me… but something about my dads lesson of humor resonates like never before. Now hearing a breathing treatment again and trying to get him to sleep reminds me of the moments I have done this for my own child. He has taught us that being child-like is okay.

As he comes off the machine, we talk about quality time with my brother… and how special it was to have 1:1 time with him. Then he went on to tell me his favorite line I ever said was “don’t project me” …. “I said what about I love you?” He said, “nope the other one was a Nancy original.” Ok dad… whatever you want.

What is the lesson in all this? Yes, laughter is getting us through for sure… but I think it’s also to pause and take this moment to just be present here for him. Experience this moment for what it is and who it’s with. I do love this man… and will always “project him” as long as I can.

Every breath he takes is a gift and one I won’t forget if I am here for it.

Father’s Day 2024.

Fast forward 6 months, sitting here wondering what to post to capture life for him as we know it now. All I can think of is frontal lobal dementia is tough….it takes the front part of your brain the part you need for the basics. With covid, it now propelled the need for him to be cared in a new home w/ someone to aid him on what to eat, what to say, how to say it, time management, where he is sometimes, support his hygiene basics and any type of filter that is needed in a nursing home! But as I sit here on a plane thinking about my dad and the blessing he is to me, I miss the old him so much but am reminded that the new phase of him is a gift. The basics may have been taken from him, but thank goodness he has kept the sense of humor, his ability to make me laugh, and the warmth I have always felt with him. As I get the gift to “project him” I am reminded of the phases of our 50 years together and the blessings we have had along the way. Nothing will take that away from me…not even frontal lobal dementia.

He is my dad. Everyday is his day, not just Father’s Day.