My John and our years in Alzheimer’s disease. Some have thought John was my dad. The daughters have been asked if he is their grampa.
Once John said to me, “Get out of my way old lady.” I told him he shouldn’t go there…He does look older after six years of the disease, white hair, thin, head down, but then he sees someone, his eyes open wide, a slight smile, then it’s gone.
I always want to defend John Sexton because he is a remarkable man. And sometimes to others I do. In this state, one would not know of his incredible contribution in others’ lives and to life itself.
They wouldn’t know that as a pediatric dentist he treated 14,000 children, 6,000 of which were HIV. He led teams to Cambodia,Romania, and Uganda to set up dental clinics and treat these children that had never been seen.
John took such care & time with parents and kids in the practice. Yet now, he may not know that his grandchildren, Ryder (3) & Maxine (1) come to see him.
However, he smiles at them and senses they’re a child which he favors. One wouldn’t know that he began his career as a H.S. biology teacher.
He even got a bus driver’s license and a bus so he could take the students up to the mountains to learn biology and build snow caves to learn winter survival.
Yet now he won’t keep shoes & socks on and wants to go outside barefoot in the snow. However, when outside he can run slowly on the sidewalk and he doesn’t trip over a chair as he wanders thru his home.
I tell many, in the midst of all John was doing, he, we as a family built a ranch that we’ve run now for 20 years. He raised registered angus, did artificial insemination.
He learned about soils and raised quality hay. He let so many experience the workings of a ranch and equipment and animals. It was his favorite place as John is a worker.
He sees pictures, but there is no response. However, I asked him recently to just snap back to answer one question for me…”Should I put the organics on the soil?”
Wandering along, head down, he softly, slightly said, “Do it.” John entered Applewood Our House two some years ago. He walked in wearing dress wool slacks & a starched shirt, his usual work outfit.
Today he is in sweats, a t-shirt, barefoot. At first he shaved every day, handsome, then I or others shaved him. Now he has a mustache and beard as his skin is very sensitive. It hurts to be shaved. A beard is softer. He’s still handsome.
At first, we went out all the time, to eat, movies, drives, church. Slowly, he became restless in a restaurant, confused in a theater, turning the ice cream upside down in the car or just sleeping against the window.
However, several months ago on a drive, John held up his fingers in the “I love you” gesture and said his nickname for me, “Rose”. The disease of Alzheimer’s is very confusing.
It presents so many variations. When John first arrived at Applewood, I was often asking, “Are you sure he belongs here?” For me, it was somewhat out of guilt, not remembering how hard and dangerous the four years were at home in the disease, and just not knowing.
There and continually is where the directors and staff come in. This is the most difficult walk ever, so many questions, so much grieving and then one has the people walking beside us who know.
I have found at each turn from recognition to very little, conversation to mumbling & quiet, calm to extreme agitation in tearing up his room, capable in physical habits to urinating anywhere, eating with utensils to using fingers, there has been someone to help me realize it’s the disease and really, these pieces of difficult change are ok.
They don’t matter to John, but standing hugging him, a back rub, sitting while he sleeps on my shoulder, kind words…those matter. We family members always say we don’t know how our directors and their staff do their jobs.
I have watched how they love on, genuinely love the residents, besides take care of ALL of their needs. They give them respect and dignity. They have talked to me about each step and what to expect. They always say they too have questions and all residents are different, but having years of experience taking care of them, they really do know.
I trust that knowledge. I never like when people say, “Oh, John’s not the man you married now.” “That man’s gone.” I understand it to be one of those cliches of life…and answer for some.
Most important to John is his faith, his personal relationship with Jesus Christ. His parents were our Sunday school teachers at age 5.
We’ve been married 38 years and he is the same man I married so long ago. Grieving…the pain is such a long process. For our two daughters it is very difficult to watch their strong, incredible father leaving us. They depended on him and have worked with him all their lives.
However, they too rally as touching him, talking to him in familiar voices, setting a grandchild on his lap, just hanging out, I believe he senses he’s loved. Our son-in-laws and many friends have come alongside.
Of course life takes them to their own and then there are a small number that will follow John to the end. The end…it is coming with this disease. There too the staff will be there.
They will walk us thru what we can only imagine now. When the LORD comes for John, John will hear, “Well done good and faithful servant.” I always say, “He’s crazy, but I’m crazy about him.” Barb.
