Interestingly, when I am able to wake him up and get a conversation going, he gives me some clues into the inner world of his mind. Sometimes I'll ask what he's done that day and he'll respond by saying, "I'm not sure but I did some exercising, I think I went for a run." Almost every question I ask him will begin with, "I'm not sure, but..."
At times, when we are sitting in one of the visiting areas, I'll notice how he is lost in thought and I'll ask, "What are you thinking?" Over the last few visits he has responded with numerous answers such as, "I'm wondering how many miles it is to San Antonio?" or "I wonder how long it took me to finish that slab (as he is pointing to the patio)?"
Then there are times when we walk around the facility and workers and residents alike will greet him by name. I'll comment to Dad that everyone seems to know him and he"ll just smile and say, "I have no idea who they are." One nurse called Dad "Mr. Fast-Pitch," obviously because Dad must have told stories about his days as a softball pitcher. But when I ask Dad how the nurse knew about him being a pitcher, he said, "They read it in the newspaper."
As Dad's dementia progresses, I can see how most of his living is taking place in his inner world where fragments of his past occupy his mind, while in the outer world he just sleeps.
 |
| Dad sleeping when I arrived today. |
 |
| Dad giving me "the look" because I woke him up. |
