To Do List: Dad Haircut

To Do List:  Dad Haircut

It was a day like many others.  I had my list of TO DO’s and was pretty much on track to get it all done.   Part of me wanted to skip the next task.  I could think of many reasons why I should skip this particular task.  It could wait.  It always takes longer than expected.  I always cry after I visit.  He probably won’t remember I’ve been there.  And the list goes on and on, but I went.

I was greeted by the caregiver, Anna when I arrive and was told he was in his room napping.  I walked in to find him sitting on the edge of his chair, a puzzled look on his face.  The DVD on the TV in continuous repeat the same single line of the song, over and over and over.  “Hey Dad” my usual greeting, and his reply “Hey Darling.”  The look softened a little but not completely gone.  “What’cha doing?”  He rubs his forehead “Aww, trying to get up, I’ve just been sitting here doing nothing missing out on all the overtime available.  I need to take that stuff down to green valley.”  Now I’m the puzzled one, wondering which job or what stuff he’s thinking of.  I wish I could understand this disease called dementia.  Where in the randomness of the day thoughts of in-completion and frustration raid the tired brain and body of the elderly making them think they haven’t finished their work here.  But on to the task at hand, “I’m here to give you a haircut”  “Oh good” he says satisfactorily “they don’t do a good job here” Then he starts to ramble about some guy not doing things right.

Now I just have to get him up and down the long hallway out on the patio to my makeshift hair salon.   It’s not that far but his steps are short and shuffled, and first I have to get him to stand up.  The Parkinson’s and lack of exercise have left his muscle so weak he can hardly push himself up from the chair to stand.  It is a huge frustration to me and yet I still don’t exercise regularly.  Finally standing and hands firmly on the walker he heads toward the closet.  “No dad, we need to go this way”  “which way?” he questions apparently unable to see me or the door to the room.  I gently try to direct his walker and am met with resistance, his grip is still strong “What’s pulling on this thing?” “Sorry Dad I was just trying to help.”  I’ve already been here 15 minutes and we haven’t even gotten out of the bedroom  much less started the haircut part yet. 

Finally headed down the hallway dad suddenly asks “Where’s your mother?”  Immediately I try to clarify, is he talking about Mom? Or does he think I am someone else? So I ask “who are you asking about, my mom?” “Yes.” He replies to me like who else in the world would I be asking about.  Still not convinced he’s talking about Mom.  I remind him that I am Brenda, still he persist “Where’s your mother?”  Without thinking I remind him, “Dad remember mom passed away.”  Then it hits me, and I think to myself  as a matter of fact 13 years ago today mom passed away. Now the wave of sadness comes, here’s the tears that always happens starting far too early in the visit.  He shakes his head in disbelief “What? Your mother passed away? When?” and then the remembrance starts to come back and he is lost in his despair again.   I decide then and there never to remind him again.  I will just tell him that she’s shopping, or she’ll be over in a bit, or perhaps I will say “She’s waiting for you at the pearly gates of Heaven.  Wishing you would join her. It’s the only time she’s ever had to wait on you.”  We continue down the hallway.

Anna meets us in the kitchen on our way out to the patio she has his afternoon dose of pills ready.  I am relieved, it will help him be less anxious, more relaxed and lessen his back pain.   Unfortunately there is no cure for the despair he feels.  Antidepressants don’t help in Parkinson’s patients.  We continue at a shuffle out the door to the patio.  The weather is beautiful.  Finally the haircut starts.

It has been about six weeks since his last haircut, given by someone who comes to the care home and charges $20, he looks pretty shaggy.  I cut it short, a number one, his haircut of preference, trim his eyebrows and all the other places that grown unwanted hair.  All the while I’m thinking this could be the last time I get this opportunity and wondering why would I want to skip this task on my To Do list.  We finish up the haircut now to get him back inside.  He is feeling more relaxed now, thankfully the meds are working.  Down the long hallway back to his room.

He is tired he wants to rest.  Shuffle to the chair that he can’t see and finally backed up and seated sideways so another stand and straighten up.  I turn on the Gaither DVD, music that is soothing and familiar.  We sing along a bit words that come naturally to songs we’ve sung for so long.  He drifts off to sleep.  Hopefully it will be restful for him.  Maybe Mom will visit him in his dreams and reassure him that everything’s going to be alright.  I know that’s what she always told me. 

I leave trying to hold back the tears that always come after a visit.  And back on my To Do list for three weeks down the road.  Dad Haircut.  Or perhaps he will need a trim sooner.  I love you Dad.