The unsung hero of Alzheimer's and the meaning of a cake
I’ve written a lot about how my daughter and I kept a connection with my mom during her Alzheimer’s journey, but today I want to share about an unsung hero who walked that road with us: my dad. There’s no doubt that dementia is extremely difficult for the person suffering from that awful disease, but the effect of the family is excruciating. And I would say the toughest walk is that of the spouse.
My dad literally would have sold his house and lived in a tent to be able to afford quality care for my mom. Her every need was met. Anything he could fix, he did. And I know the many things he could not fix still haunt him.
Dad learned so much, so fast. He had spent his life working long hours in construction, while Mom took care of things at home. He meshed both worlds as he quickly converted the house with handicapped rails in the bathroom, a walk-in shower, and many other adjustments that made Mom’s unsure footing and declining motor skills less challenging. He has become an accomplished cook and can bargain shop like a master.
All while I know he was suffering, Dad did everything he could to soften the blows for me and my brother, as we slowly and painfully lost our mom. I will be forever grateful the three of us were together with her when she left this life last December.
My daughter graduates from high school this June. It’s an exciting and emotional time. It hurts to not be able to have my Mom as part of the celebrations. I find myself missing her a lot as we go through the rituals of these weeks around the big day.
Our church back home held a special Graduate Recognition Sunday earlier this month. Alicia was being celebrated alongside two of our cousins who graduated from college this spring and several church friends with whom she has attended Sunday School and summer camp. We decided to have a family lunch to congratulate Alicia and our cousins.
Stressed trying to juggle all the end-of-the-school-year events, my full-time job and life in general, I had volunteered to bring a cake and a deli tray, grad plates and napkins. My dad had found a nice bakery near his house, and I called to order a cake. Of course, it was too late.
I set the matter aside to figure out later as I had a lot of work meetings that day. My sweet Dad swooped in, went to Harris Teeter and ordered a great cake. With the help of the bakery employee, he picked out every detail, even finding a way to have different colors of icing to represent the different schools of Alicia and our two cousins. He picked it up, along with a huge platter of Alicia’s favorite, chicken tenders, and had them waiting in the fridge when we got to town. All I had to do was safely transport them to the church fellowship hall with the plates and napkins I had been able to order online.
Unknowingly, Dad had done exactly what Mom would have done for me: seen my frazzle, stepped in and intuitively done what would help me most. The difference is that Mom had ordered a million cakes in her life, this was likely Dad’s first. During Mom’s battle with Alzheimer’s, he was undeterred by things that were unfamiliar to him. He figured it out for her sake. And with that cake, he did that for me.
My brother and my nephew came to the lunch that day, making it even more special for me. I miss Mom, and Alicia misses her Nana, so much. But the way we came together – bonded by a celebration and missing Mom, side by side – made things a little easier to bear.
That cake meant the world to me. We brought the rest of it back to Raleigh and will be enjoying every last bite this week. Every piece feels like a love letter to me from my dad. Life does go on, as hard as it feels. And we can get through it, sticking together.
Helpful Resources:
Andrea Osborne is Capitol Broadcasting Company’s director of content. She has daughter in high school and recently lost her mother who had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. She will be sharing her family’s journey here on WRAL’s family section.
