Regardless of the specifics, illness and death are tragic to all affected by them. At some point in all of our lives we will be directly impacted by these dark horses. Sometimes bad things happen without warning and leave us wracked with almost unendurable shock before the pain of the situation even has time to affect us. Other times, tragedy occurs slowly; relentlessly and methodically destroying anything in its path.
When someone dies, you often hear one of their loved ones reminisce about the last words they said before whatever 'it' is happened. Sometimes it's 'I love you,' other times it's, 'I wish I wouldn't have said that.' Sometimes people are thankful for their last words. Other times they are filled with regret. Either way...they remember...they always remember.
I have no idea what my last words to my dad were. I don't remember his last words to me. The thing about dementia is that my dad has been slowly dying for the last ten years. Like a classic Greek sculpture being slowly chipped away, my dad's brain is no longer recognizable, and has more in common with crumbled marble and dust than a beautiful bust.
Dad was always so obsessive compulsive about me finding a wife...kind of like Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof except I'm a guy and we're not Jewish. He would always ask me when I was going to get married. My dad was a minister so over the years I watched him perform the wedding ceremonies of so many people in my family...Dad couldn't do mine. I wish I could tell him I found the one. Well, I did, but he didn't understand...I don't think. I still talk to him and tell him I love him when I see him...I just wish I could remember my last conversation with my dad. -Chad Bozarth