I have been known to go on vacation and come back with beautiful photos that I'm not sure if they are of a sunrise or a sunset.
Because, you see, I love to photograph both times of day and in many ways they are much the same. A spring sunrise and winter sunset in Indiana look a whole lot alike.
As many of you know, if you've followed my blog for long, my Daddy has Alzheimer's. He's still living at home with Mama, but as his disease progresses it's getting more difficult for all of us, but especially my dear sweet Mama, to deal with him.
And I was thinking yesterday, as I stayed with him while Mama had a much-needed lunch out with her girlfriends, that at 82 years old he's acting more and more like a toddler every day.
Except a toddler is more predictable and controllable...and we all have the hope and promise that children will grow up and out of that stage. Dad is going in the opposite direction, and it's so very sad to witness.
The winter sunset of his life is becoming more and more like his spring sunrise from 80 years ago.
Except the hope and promise of a beautiful day ahead will happen in Heaven for Daddy, not on this earth.
Yesterday he had a particularly bad day, which ripples out to a bad day for especially Mama and also for me. He was a big old grump all day, and I'm not sure he had one clear thought all day (which certainly explained his grouchiness, but doesn't make it any easier to deal with).
Or, I should say, Dad acted like a grouchy toddler trapped in an old man's body. As he used to tell us, he must've gotten up on the wrong side of the bed. As I watched his antics yesterday, I had a few flashbacks to incidents from when my own children were little:
Having to distract Dad so we can snatch things away from him (in this case, truck keys)
Dunking his breadsticks and pizza squares in his coffee during our lunch at Pizza King
Sticking his pocketbook (billfold...but he calls it his pocketbook, which I think is so sweet!) in a random drawer and then couldn't find it
Asking a gazillion times where Mama is and when is she coming home?
Pulling away and growling, "I don't like that word!" when Mama told him he was "cute"
Going in and out the door constantly, refusing to put on his boots and coat
Gobbling down the blueberry muffins Mama made like there was no tomorrow
Pouting. Big time. All. Day. Long.
Just like a child. We have to constantly be checking on him to see what he's gotten into. He can't be trusted, which is so very hard to say about the man who was once the most trustworthy man on the planet.
I love him so!!! And it's heart-breaking to watch him regress in his mental abilities.
Sometimes a winter sunset looks way too much like a spring sunrise.