Parent Care Story

Kevin's Story

My father, Ronald Mayo Skipper, was born October 6, 1936 on a small farm between Conway and Aynor in South Carolina.  After a farming dispute with his father he joined the US Air Force.  He was a military Veteran serving in the Air Force from 1956 to 1976.  After retiring from the US Air Force, he worked for 20 years for the US Postal Service in Orlando, Florida.

As the years went by after retirement, I noticed, as many children notice, that dad was getting older.  I could see the small signs as they progressed.  The graying of the hair, the slight shake in the hands, the repetition when talking, the slower pace of walking, the shuffling of the feet and other signs that let me know that dad was indeed getting older.

One Sunday morning about 7:30 a.m. in June 2005,  I got a call I will never forget.   My mother called  me from the garage so that dad could not hear the conversation,“Your dad and I went to the doctor this week and the doctor says he has Dementia, which will likely move towards Alzheimer’s Disease.”  It seemed so unreal; like I was having a nightmare.   My dad has Alzheimer’s-- that only happens to other people, surely not my dad.  I hung up the phone and cried the tears that many people have cried when they get similar news.

I then began the research phase to understand what this meant.   How does it progress?   How can I help?   What are the medications? These are the same feelings that many of you or your children will feel on the day you receive the diagnosis.

I also realized that if I was going to have some special times with my dad, I needed to get to Florida more often to be with him while he still remembered who I was.  In 2006, I made five or six trips to Florida to spend time with dad as I watched him worsen with each trip.

The most memorable trip I made was in February 2006 when I took dad to Kennedy Space Center at Cape Canaveral, Florida.  We had a great and special day.  Dad was shuffling his feet so I suggested that we get a wheel chair.  He said, “I don’t need a wheel chair.”   I said,”Oh it is not for you, it is for me…if we get a wheel chair we will get front row seats.”    He said,“Oh okay.”  It was that day that I changed my dad’s diaper for the first time and he was aware of what I was doing and apologized for putting me through this.  I said,”Dad…real men can change their father’s diaper.”    

It was on that day as I headed west back to Orlando that I saw one of the most memorable sunsets of my life.  At least a half a dozen times on the way back my dad said,”This was a great day, son…this was a great day.”  He also gave me that day one of the biggest blessings of my life when he said,”Son, can I tell you something? I am very proud of you and I want you to know that I believe that you are a Man's Man!”  That was the last day with my dad that he had any similarity of the dad I grew up with.  

The next visits began to show the awful impact of Alzheimer’s and how it changes the people you love into a person you don’t know.  Other trips included less mobility, the stage of irritability, the belligerent attitudes,  and more loss of memory.  There was the day dad got lost when he normally is very good with directions.  There was the day they told him he could not drive anymore. And many other signs that Alzheimer’s was taking his mind away.

In November of 2006 I paid dad a visit in Florida and “He wanted to go home. “   He thought that I had gone to Florida to bring him to his home of childhood which is Conway,  South Carolina.  He was upset when I told him that I could not bring him to South Carolina.  Mom then determined that she would bring him to South Carolina over Thanksgiving 2006 for what was likely his final trip home.  I met them in Conway and took my dad to his parent graveside, to his high school in Aynor and down the street where he had lived the first 19 years of his life. I asked him “Do you remember?” and each time the answer came back,”I don’t remember that…”  We knew that the days of any recollection were over.

My final memory with my dad was on June 8, 2007.  I had gone to Florida to visit and I managed to get him into the car and we went to see the space shuttle launch.  I am not sure how much he knew about being there.  On June 9, 2007  I asked him,”What is my name…what is my name?”  and with that blank stare…there was no response. I knew that some very difficult parent care decisions were about to be upon our family.    

The family began the research process of looking for home health care, home companion care, nursing home care, and hospice.  I had the experience that many do with their parent several states away, making phone calls to find the right help and not knowing what I was really looking for.  We thought that the next chapter of care was going to be very long.  However, things turned for the worse sooner than expected.

On July 18, 2007, my father passed away and  I was asked to officiate the service.  It one of the most meaningful things and the most emotional things I have ever had to do in my life.

I know that this story is or will be a similar story to what millions of you will be going through.  Current numbers estimate that 15,000 baby boomers (those born between 1946 and 1964) each day are turning age 60 and there are over 87 million baby boomers.  I still have my mother living and both of my wife’s  parents are living.  We know that we have many more parent care decisions to make.

If you are visiting this site, whether you are the parent or the child, you probably will have a number of parent care decisions ahead.  We at Parent Care Consultants, LLC will work with parent and/or their children to assist them with consulting services to discuss the legal, financial, emotional, and logistical decisions that need to be made regarding parent care.      I invite you to look at the various areas of the website to see how our unique processes and The Parent Care Solutions can be instrumental in helping you make the best decisions with parent care.  Once you have reviewed our site, give us a call to set a meeting to develop your parent care plan.