who is love?


when you're losing the fight against death, I think that there comes a time when you just ride the wave. so we did, we rode it out until it went flat.

I never pictured my father deteriorating so fast, I thought maybe he'd get a hint of dementia, maybe he'd be wheelchair bound for a year or two, and if it ever came to, we'd deal with the worst-case scenarios. I thought I had time, more memories to make, more lessons to learn, more space for us to grow up together. But by August we had hip surgery, a heart attack, a few strokes and epilepsy under our belt. Every odd numbered month that year guaranteed at least a one week hospital stay and a new diagnosis.  

Dementia set in after his latest stroke in early August, and it felt like it was stripping our relationship to its bones. There were no more memories to dwell on together, there was no more advice to give, honestly most days he didn’t even know we lived in the same house. I was losing him, and there was no time for processing emotions, only playing catch up. So we played.

By October, my dad pulled me aside for a conversation, in which seemed like the most aware moment of his life, and said:
  “Bailey, I’m going to leave you soon, and I need you to take it with a grain of salt.”

    and thats where my grief began— while he was still right in front of me.