It wasn't until after my Mom passed away that we discovered Dad had
Alzheimers.  We didn't realize how much Mom had been covering for him.
We knew something was wrong because he was doing things that were so
out his character for him.  We thought it was just grief but we knew
we had to do something.  So we finally got Dad to go to the doctor.
After several tests and MRI's, the doctor said that Dad had
Alzheimers, the doctor also discovered several other medical problems
that had gone undiagnosed due to Dad's dislike of doctors.

It didn't really hit us what this (Dad having Alzheimer's) meant until
one day Dad went missing.  Apparently, he had drove to town and didn't
come home.  We were all scared, he had been gone for almost 7 hours.
Thank God we live in a small community and most people know him.  Dad
had gotten confused and couldn't remember where he was going.  He was
also quite tired so he pulled into a parking lot, shut off the car and
went to sleep for a while.  When he woke up he just drove home.  This
could have been devistating considering the fact that we live in
Michigan and this happened in the middle of winter.  That's when we
realized we needed to take some drastic steps.  We finally convinced
Dad to give up his driver's lisence and sell his cars.  It nearly
broke his heart; he was still with it enough to understand why this
needed to be done but that didn't make it any easier.

Then Dad became quite ill, he has several other medical problems
besides Alzheimers.  He was hospitalized for almost a week and his
doctor said that he needed more care than could be provided at home.
So we ended up putting Dad in a nursing home.  Now, two years later,
there are signs that the alzheimers is advancing.  I cannot get to see
him as often as I would like to since it is nearly a two hour drive.
We have other family closer who do go to see him often.  But I still
feel guilty for not visiting more often.

It's hard for me to explain how I feel when I do go see him.  When Mom
died she was gone.  She was only sick for a week or two before she
died.  But with Dad it's like he is dying one little piece at a time.
I think it is more difficult to lose a parent a little at a time.  I
hate this.  I can do nothing to stop it, I can do nothing to help.
All I can do is stand by and watch.  How does one deal with these
feelings?

Thank you for listening.   Any advice is welcome.