T.J. Maxx & Milton

Many years ago, a chain of discount clothing stores called T.J. Maxx had a commercial jingle which went like this: “...never, ever the same place twice...”. Since we have been out here visiting Chuck’s 94 year old Dad, Milton, that song keeps running through my mind. You see, every visit with Chuck’s Dad is a little different from the one before. We last saw Dad back in the spring. In the intervening seven plus months he has declined a great deal. On this trip we visit him twice a day, as was our custom in the spring. But whereas last March and April there seemed to be a certain rhythm to Dad’s condition and his energy level and comfort throughout the day, as well as day to day, this time it feels random and unpredictable.

Visiting and attending someone who has lived a full, long life as he nears the unknowable end, leads to a welter of emotions and thoughts. I can’t help but think back on my Dad’s final months with Alzheimer’s Disease. Chuck thinks about his Mom in her last months, succumbing to the same cruel illness. Chuck and I find ourselves discussing difficult practical matters such as ordinary vs. extraordinary means, as well as philosophical questions about the meaning and purpose of life. The practical matters were addressed and resolved earlier this evening in Chuck’s sister Carol’s and her husband’s living room, when we weighed the pros and cons of all sorts of comfort care vs. active intervention care.

The philosophical questions still hang in the air, awaiting further conversations. But one thing became clear to me this afternoon: even as Dad’s capacity to interact and his abilities and health diminish, he is still influencing and driving this family. Without the prompt of his circumstances, Chuck and I wouldn’t have moved reviewing our health care proxy and medical directive forms and letters to the top of our to do list when we get home. Without Dad’s current condition, Chuck and I would not be back out here so soon, spending time with Dad as well as Carol and her family. Without Dad’s health, well being and quality of life constantly on our minds, Chuck and I wouldn’t be wrestling with issues of mortality and love enduring.

Even though Dad is no longer able to instruct us directly, he is still guiding us; he is still leading us; he is still teaching us. Thank you Dad.