I had not seen him, nor had he been a part of my life, since I was 12. He had the title of Grandaddy, but I did not know him as such. The parts that I did remember were fuzzy, after all it had been 23 years. I cared because he is family, he is human, and I merely respected him because he was able help bring my mother into being. I had my wall up, I was guarded, and I was not going to be an easy sell, no matter what. I knew things, and I also knew it was going to be difficult. No matter what the situation was, I knew that I was going to be there to support my Mother during this... this... journey.

He came to live with my Mother in May of 2009. It wasn't planned, it wasn't really welcomed. It was an inconvenience, but it was accepted. We all knew that if it wasn't my Mother, then just WHO would it be? No one. There WAS NO ONE that was able, or willing to take care of him. So, she accepted the roll of care giver, and the journey began.

He was released from the VA hospital into a temporary nursing home to get his medications regulated, as well as have a few tests completed to find out how far into dementia he was, or IF he was at all. In June, he came "home". The beginning stages of dementia were starting to make their presence known. It wasn't pretty. Violence, rage,fear,crying, confusion, and the longing to remember the past... all of these are common signs of dementia. The medication helped, but not everything is 100%.

As time went on, I started to care. I started to develop emotions for this man I barely knew. It was heartbreaking to witness this terrible disease take away all of his memories. Memories of his wife, his children, his friends, and even the war that he so honorably fought in. He was forgetting. I wanted him to know that, even tho we didn't really know one another, that I was going to be a mainstay in his life now. That I was going to listen to the stories he told, when he could remember them. I was going to be there when he was confused and asked the same questions over and over again. I wanted him to know me, and I desperately wanted to know him.

One day my boys and I were at the park, and I thought it would be so wonderful if my Grandaddy could join us. It was, after all, a beautiful day. I remember being angry at my Mother at first when she said she wasn't going to bring him. She later called back and said she was on her way.. I was thrilled.

I remember him being so concerned about my children being close to the water. They were fishing with their home made fishing poles. He told me that if something happened to those boys, he would never forgive himself. This made me smile, and I assured him that everyone was going to be ok, and that he should not worry so much. We walked around a little, and he kept wanting to try out every available sitting spot in the area. He finally decided this was where he would watch my children explore their surroundings.

I'd like to think he enjoyed this day, as much as I did. No, we didn't talk a whole lot, we sat together in silence. Then it was time for us to leave. I will always remember this day, and all of the photos that I have to go along with it.

I am thankful for the almost 8 months we have had. I am thankful for this memory we made that day at Gibson Park. I will cherish it forever.