My father is getting worse. His dementia, I mean. My mother called last night, and she wanted to complain about him–per usual. I do not blame her because it’s tough to deal with someone with dementia, especially when that person was highly unpleasant in the first place.
That’s not something we talk about when we discuss dementia. I mean, we don’t talk much about dementia in general, but we definitely don’t acknowledge that it doesn’t just happen to good people. My dad is and always has been a petulant narcissist. He’s thin-skinned and judges everything by how it makes him look. He believes women are only there for fucking and men ar ethreats to his masculinity. Oh, I should say this is just Taiwanese people–he doesn’t put any stock in any other people.
My mother is worn-out. She’s taking an anti-anxiety medication because of him, and she has no one to rely on. It’s partly because Taiwan is shitty when it comes to dementia (they consider it a moral failing rather than an actual disease), but it’s also because she has drank the Kool-Aid that she had to keep his secrets. I mean, there’s no need to blab his business to everyone (which she has done in the past), but at the same time, his dementia is not missable.
That’s the thing that he doesn’t get. He accuses her of telling people about it, but it’s very clear that he’s not all there. When I talk to him, I have a hard time following what he’s saying. I want to be fair. English is his third language (fourth, really, but he doesn’t remember his Japanese), and he doesn’t speak it any more execpt to me and my brother.
But his thoughts don’t follow. We were talking about the weather yesterday, and I mentioned that we got snow. Yes, snow in mid-April. It doesn’t happen often, but it does happen. Prince sang about it, and he ain’t never lied.
Then, I mentioned that my mother had said it was really hot there. He thought I meant here and no matter how many times or ways I said I meant it was hot in Taiwan, he did not get it. Another time, we were talking about technology and he kept saying tablet when he meant cellphone. I can usually tell what he’s trying to say, but it’s not a conversation.
It’s so weird. It doesn’t really bother me or I don’t let it ruffle me because…well, to be brutally honest, my father has never made much sense. He has really weird ideas and he has no idea that they are very different than the norm. Or rather, they are very old-fashioned. For example, when it comes to women, he has said to me the following: