That's My Dad

I wrote this 6.10.2008 after visiting my Daddy in the nursing home. I wanted the workers who cared for him to know the real him...before Alzheimer's took over.

You care for a patient in waterproof britches

This 80 year old man who can keep you in stitches
Pushing his walker to help keep him stable

Several times each day from his room to the table ~
That’s my Dad.

I care for this man who worked hard all his life

Providing for us kids and his faithful wife
The 9th of 10 children – a coal miner’s son –

Richard Ray Henry…not just someone…
That’s my Dad.

You see a patient dressed in sweats and a sweater

An Alzheimer’s victim who will not get better,
Struggling with reality – comfortable in the past

Living in his yesterdays that forever last…
That’s my Dad.

I see a man on his knees tiling floors,

With precision and skill, down on all fours,
Who enlisted in the Navy without hesitation

Serving his country – America’s Greatest Generation…
That’s my Dad.

You touch his soft hands, wrinkled and spotted with years,

As you pass him his meds or calm anxious fears.
Helping wash this body that doesn’t remember how

Gently finishing your chore with a soft drying towel…
That’s my Dad.

These hands that were often blistered, calloused and bruised

From the hard work he did and the equipment he used.
Shirtless and sun burnt after mowing all day

Mom “vinegaring” his back to take the sting away…
That’s my Dad.

You hear the same questions asked a dozen times before

“Who are you?” “Where are we?” “What’s this dumb thing for?”
No more conversations – those days are through

Brief answers, repeated questions…it’s the best he can do…
That’s my Dad.

Random ramblings, muffled mutterings…now the order of the day

Eyes closed, thoughts scattered as he passes time away.
Once lucid now distant, sometimes here, sometimes not…

It all makes me wonder why this is his lot…but…
That’s my Dad.

In mellow moments of respite, as well we all should

Sanity surfaces, prayer proceeds, welcome words… “God is good.”
This faith in the Father, many years ago founded

In these twilight years evidences a soul deeply grounded…
That’s my Dad.

Please make no mistake, this family’s anchor holds fast

To the God of creation who forgives repentant pasts.
This Author of life has numbered all of our days

And our faith simply rests in His mysterious ways…

That’s our DAD.