I was just on the phone with my dad, chatting about whatever random question came to his mind.

First he was asking me what I do for relaxation, as in what are my relaxation activities here in Boulder. 

Then he asked me how business was going.

Next up was asking about how I was settling into Boulder (it’s been 15 months)

Then he was asking me how I like where I lived. In fact, he said, you’re in a hotel room right? 

I could hear the hesitation in his voice as he asked me. 

Sometimes i think this is the hardest part for me about having a conversation with him. It’s almost as if, in moments like that, he wants to say something more or knows that what he’s saying isn’t quite right…but he’s just not quite sure of what to say but keeps on asking and talking.

   My parents and I visiting Estes Park, CO in the summer of 2015


My parents and I visiting Estes Park, CO in the summer of 2015

Sometimes, like with the hotel room question, you can hear the uncertainty in his voice, that a part of his brain is going “of course your daughter doesn’t live in a hotel room! You were there 6 months ago! It’s a super cute little one bedroom apartment that you know she loves. In fact, you loved it."

But instead the question comes out, “you live in a hotel room right?"

I tried to explain without saying things like “Dad, you were there. It’s an apartment, remember?"

I just state the facts about how it’s not a hotel room, but my own place. I live alone and really like it. I share about the view and how it’s close to Jim and Julie (my cousins). 

His next question indicates he somewhat gets it, as he asks about my neighbours and that I must know them.

Unfortunately I don’t. Nor do I know them any better each time he asks me that question. 

It’s in those moments when I’m smacked in the face with my dad’s dementia - a loud and clear reminder that my dad’s brain cells are slowly dying off, leaving things to misfire, to not properly connect and ask me questions about living in a hotel room.  

Love you Pops. xx