Deflection

Today, my dad turned 91 years old. Longevity runs in our family. My grandfather’s death was ruled an accidental death at the age of 93, since he tripped on his own feet, fell, and hit is head on the concrete. He had on some real bulky shoes/boots that seem to contribute to the tripping. He hit the concrete so hard that it bruised his brain. After being in rehabilitation for a couple of months, he came down with staphylococcus bacteria. He could not fight both the bruised brain and bacteria. As for my uncle, he is now 94 years old. One grandmother was 84, and the other was 87. And my other grandfather was 75 years old.

On Saturday, my dad will have his 72nd class reunion. And, yes, there is enough from my dad’s class to have a reunion. I stopped and visited with Dave Stroupe this afternoon, and he was going to call my dad to wish him a happy birthday. During Memoral Day, I visited with Dick Trewyn. Dad has stated that there are more of his classmates around, but I cannot remember the details. But this ninety’s club gets bigger by each generation. Although my grandfather never graduated from high school, which was common in his day, I am sure that there would not have been many from the classes that he took in Canton, Illinois.

I went to a dementia support group meeting this morning, and I got a few pointers on dealing with my mom’s sun dower syndrome every afternoon. When she states that she wants to go home, it is best to ask her questions about her fictional home. I took a white board and wrote my replies to her this afternoon. It kept her mind moving, but it really did not remove the her feelings that she needed to go home. But it is better to keep her mind occupied than having it wonder without an end.

I took mom for a ride this afternoon, and the ride does keep her mind moving, so I guess that the time is worth wail.

Roger