A Sad KitchenAid Mixer
Earlier this month, we said goodbye to my beloved father-in-law, Darcy. Darcy was only 62. He had Mosaic Down Syndrome, a form of Down Syndrome where some cells are normal and individuals have fewer symptoms of Down Syndrome as a result. (Visit here for more information on Mosaic Down Syndrome). In addition to Mosaic Down Syndrome, Darcy also presented with Alzheimer's Disease. (Visit here for more information on the prevalence of Down Syndrome and Alzheimer's Disease).
Unfortunately, having the facts about Darcy's symptoms and prognosis did not make living it easier. For the past several years, Drake, my brother-in-law Drew, and I oversaw Darcy's care. We toured and chose care facilities with varying levels of support as Darcy's symptoms progressed. We bought his clothing, furnished his room, organized visits, and scheduled/accompanied him to his medical appointments. For Drake, roles has completely flipped - parent had become child and child had become parent.
Darcy's dementia quickly progressed so significantly that he no longer recognized Drake during his visits. Drake handled this with aplomb. He carried conversations by himself, cued up Darcy's favourite movies on repeat, and sometimes just sat nearby.
In the Summer of 2020, Darcy was admitted to the hospital after a seizure (epilepsy is also comorbid with Mosaic Down Syndrome). We all assumed that he would return to his care facility after a bit of rehabilitation. Unexpectedly, this was not the case. It was a Tuesday when we got the call from the doctor that Darcy's prognosis was less than a week and he was considered palliative. This took us completely by surprise. Admittedly, our communication with the unit had not been great, but none of us expected a palliative prognosis.
Both Drake and Drew took open-ended leaves from work. Drew drove through the night to get to us as quickly as possible. Then the boys camped out at the hospital with Darcy. Despite the Covid-19 restrictions of a single visitor only, all three of us were allowed to be with Darcy given his prognosis. With Grandpa's cribbage board and a backpack of beer, we learned to play cribbage, cried, laughed, reminisced, and held Darcy's hand as he slipped away two days later.
None of us expected to bury a parent in our 30's. We grieved the man we remembered even though we felt relieved that his suffering had ended. We remember Darcy for his kindness, delight in life, positive attitude, love of action movies, and participation in the Special Olympics. He was a master at making pizza on the BBQ and absolutely loved mowing the lawn. A small funeral was held in Darcy's hometown with immediate family, as per the covid-19 restrictions.
The day before Drew was set to return home, the boys surprised me with a KitchenAid mixer. They called it a gift to recognize my part in caring for Darcy and supporting them through their time of loss. I called it immediate tears in contour silver. Throughout it all, I did my best to support my father-in-law, brother-in-law, and husband. I wasn't looking for a gift (but damn if it doesn't mix cookie batter like a dream).
Best,
Laura
Comments