My father has never really had a lot to hang his hat on when it comes to me. I didn't do much to necessarily make him proud. He was never fond of my chosen line of work...he always wanted me to find a real job. Yet, I always did things to try to gain my father's approval. It seemed to be so important and it was quite rare to get any kind of positive feedback from him. I've never really hugged my father and only told him once that I loved him since I became an adult. I've never heard him say it to me. He's not that kind of father, though. I suppose I have just learned to deal with that fact.
Recently, he has been experiencing poor health. After years of heavy smoking, he now needs oxygen almost all the time. He is in the latter stages of emphysema and he can no longer live alone. He was recently moved to the home of a couple who take care of him and four other elderly people. He has his own room and the company of others in a house very close to where we all lived when I was growing up. My sister and I took some of his stuff there the other day and I saw my dad for the first time in several days. He saw me, too...looked right at me...but I don't believe he knew who I was. He didn't know my sister because he talked about her in the third person. He is confused, disoriented, suffering from some form of dementia. We originally thought it was brought on by a lack of oxygen...he hates wearing that thing...but, they've been very diligent about keeping his hose on...and his confusion seems to be getting worse. He's the same man who I depended on for approval...any shred of it...and now he's become the dependent one. He won't get better.
My dad truly is one of the great characters of humanity. I've told stories about my father that make people gasp, laugh, shake their heads in amazement and all other types of reactions. I've become accustomed to them, but I know the shock value of some of his stories and I enjoy watching. I may someday share some of those stories here.
