I was Don’s caregiver from the time he left rehab until his passing. I did not know Don before the onset of dementia and yet, reading other comments, I knew him better than I realized. It was late spring, and I would take Don to Kemper Park by Mitchie Tavern. It has several walking trails leading to Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello or up Carter’s Mountain. We would walk about a quarter of a mile before tiring, sit on a bench, eat a snack, and watch the runners go by. Don loved nature. There was always something in bloom and it fascinated him how thick the forest was. He never turned down an apple, or one of Arlene’s cookies! With each week, the return walk to the car became more difficult. We would spend a little less time walking, and a little more time riding in the car. We always stopped at McDonald’s for a coke and an apple pie! Don would comment when he saw a nice car, particularly a red one that looked fast!
Taking Don to the nursing home up in Stanardsville was a difficult day for me but he was a trooper. The other residents humored him. However, his slow decline began to accelerate. When Don could, we would go out for a ride. I would open up the sunroof, all of the windows, and ride up over the Blue Ridge Mountains, filling him with fresh mountain air, stopping in the little town of Elkton on the other side. Don and I would sit at the McDonald’s eating our apple pies, sharing a coke, and watch the world go by. We did that once or twice a week until hospice said no more.
His body was having difficulty healing itself. Simple bruises became wounds. However, even when he was in pain, Don was always charming, especially with the ladies. Anyone who met Don fell in love with him. His eyes were so expressive and he had a mischievous smile. There was something about that smile. My day was not complete without one but what touched my heart most was the genuine love his eyes expressed when Arlene walked in the room.
Trying to heal his wounds was a battle. I would assist the hospice RN with changing his bandages. It was disheartening. There is a shortage of beds but Hospice found a nursing home in Charlottesville and with more specialized care. I would get there early every morning so I could work with their wound care nurse. Carol was awesome! Don’s wounds were looking better. For a brief time, it felt like we were winning the battle. It was short lived. The antibiotics became ineffective.
The last three days, I sat by his side, holding his hand, and praying. I sensed the time was near, but I kept asking God for more time. It seems selfish now, but I think I needed him more. It was in those moments I had learned so much about myself. Don was a teacher to the end.