I spent 8 years caring for my father with Alzheimer's in our home. I would do it again. Changing diapers, bathing, feeding, getting into a wheelchair. It was exhausting and we couldnt go anywhere for all those years.
And being there holding his hand as he took his last breath was priceless. My only regret was not saying all the things I wanted to say to him early on when he still had some semblance of what was going on. By the time I was ready to say goodbye, it was too late for him to understand what I was saying.
My parents lived up in the northwoods of Wisconsin. My Pops contracted Alzheimer's and when it got bad enough, I had them move down to Florida with me.
They were here about 3 years and while there were still moments of clarity, the loving father I once knew was gone. When he started to beat my Mom I didn't know what to do.
It was only a few short months, though, and he refused to get out of bed. I tried to get him to sit up and he started saying he was going to pass out.
I called 911 and his blood pressure was almost non-existant. They worked on him about 20 minutes in the ambulance but couldn't stabalize him. The driver told me they were going to the hospital right away and would continue to work on him on the way.
When we got to the hospital, the doctors had him stablized and wanted to keep him overnight to run some tests. I gave him a kiss on the forehead and told him,
"I'll see you tomorrow, Pops".
I figured I would pick him up around 5pm and went to work the next day. About noon I got a call from my Mom who told me,
"Your Pops is in heaven". He had had a heart attack. There was so much left unsaid by me. He was always there for me no matter what trouble I was facing and I can't say that I did the same for him. Just like that he was gone.
My Mom said just before he went into cardiac arrest that he woke up and saw her and his mind was clear. He reached out and held her hand and said,
"Hi, Sweetie"...
Those were his last words.
This has not been a good day.