A letter to my dad on Father’s Day
First and foremost, I miss you—with everything I have. I miss your jokes, your hugs, and all the fun we had together. You’re still here, which I’ll never take for granted, but things are a lot different now.
When you were diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease, everything felt so surreal. You were so young and that diagnosis hit us all very hard, especially you. You were somewhat aware at that point, and I could never begin to imagine how you were feeling in that moment. Up until your own diagnosis, you were there every step of the way for your own mother who was fighting Alzheimer’s. You saw what your mother was going through and often told us how awful it would be if you too got the disease someday.
So here we are now, those words turned into real life. You’ve been living with Alzheimer’s for more than five years now, and I wish more than anything that I could take it away from you.
I know you’re not in pain, but it still breaks my heart to see you go through this. I often think to myself, “What can I do to fix this? How do I get my dad back?” The hardest thing about this disease is that right now, there’s not much we can do.
You know, Dad, we had the absolute best times together. It was the simple things with us that made our father-daughter relationship so strong. Wherever you would go, whatever you would do, you’d always want me right there with you. I miss those days more than anything. I remember you taking me to Menards with you every Sunday, playing tennis together, and attending countless Indians games. What I remember most is that you were a teacher.
You taught me so much, Dad. You taught me how to ride a bike, play the drums, change a tire and how to drive. Most importantly, you taught me by example. All of the things you taught me over the years have made me the person I am today. Looking back now, everything I have learned– I learned from you.
You were always so involved while I was growing up. If it was something I was interested in, you were always there to support me. I remember going to the father daughter square dance with you year after year. You’d dress up, buy me flowers, and take me out on a special date before showing off your best dance moves in my grade school cafeteria. I remember during Girl Scouts camp, I would always tell you and Mom that I didn’t want to go because I was too nervous to stay overnight. So, what did you do? You took off work and went to camp with me, so I wouldn’t be scared. You were and always will be the best dad in the entire world.
I think that’s what makes this journey so hard. It’s devastating to see this disease strip everything away from you. You were an amazing husband, father, brother, son, and so much more. Seeing you now, almost lifeless—it’s unbearable.
Some days when I visit you, I have trouble staying strong. But then, I realize you are still here on Earth, and even if you can’t communicate like you used to, you’re still alive. I’m thankful that I can still just sit there with you and hold your hand. If I could, I would sit beside you and hold your hand for hours. But, that time always comes when I have to leave, and it breaks my heart every single time.
Things are different now, but my love for you remains the same. You are and always will be my father and my protector. Whenever I get sad, I close my eyes and think back on the lifetime of incredible, happy memories we shared together. I wish only you were able to do the same.
Dad, I love you so much. I’m sorry I can’t take this disease away from you, but I promise I will never leave your side. When I was younger, you would always take me into the living room and play ‘Father And Daughter’ by Paul Simon and dance with me while singing the words, “There could never be a father (who) loved his daughter more than I love you.” Today, I listen to that song every single day. It reminds me of our unbreakable bond and brings me comfort.
Father’s Day is a lot different this year, as it has been for the past several years, but it’s still going to be the most beautiful day. I can’t wait to visit you, hold your hand, and simply sit together in peace.
Love always,
Your daughter, Olivia
Blog post written by Olivia McClellan. Her father, Roger McClellan, was diagnosed with younger-onset Alzheimer’s in 2013 at the age of 54. However, he showed signs much earlier. He started to misplace things and was very forgetful. He got lost a few times while driving and slowly began to forget close friends and family members. He will turn 60 in October and has been living in a skilled nursing facility for the past year. Olivia’s mother was his full-time caregiver for five years before they decided he needed to be placed in a memory care facility, as the disease was progressing at a very fast rate.
Olivia will be walking in the Walk to End Alzheimer’s - Indianapolis on October 6, and is serving on the event planning committee. Spreading awareness of this disease and raising funds for research gives Olivia hope while navigating through this challenging time.
2087
blakekathryn
snowghoul
kianamaiart
germansingergirl
theartofmadeline
prguitarman
jacobvanloon
