This Body is Bullshit

Christmas Magic and the Light Matters

Last Thursday turned into an impromptu girls’ Christmas dinner that honestly shouldn’t have worked — but somehow did. Those last-minute plans sometimes surprise you. I got together with Megan, Carrie, and Donna, and before dinner we squeezed in photos with Santa. Yes. The four of us grown women with Santa. The pictures were ridiculous and perfect and I have zero regrets.

I worked remotely Friday because I had to take Matt in for his colonoscopy. Everything turned out fine, but we were there forever. I’d already told my dad I’d pick him up afterward to take him Christmas shopping for Kathy and then bring him back to my house to order the Kindle she wanted.

By the time I picked him up, it was dark. I ran into Nordstrom while he stayed in the car, nervous the whole time I stood in line — worried he’d get out and wander. But there he was, still waiting. We headed to a couple of shops I thought might be good for finding something unique for Kathy. I could tell immediately he was anxious. Tapping his legs, repeating questions, uncomfortable in his own skin.

First store — one quick loop and he was ready to leave. Second store — same thing. The whole point was to spend time together, get him out of the house, give Kathy a break. It wasn’t going according to plan. He just wanted to go home.

I tried to figure out if he was hungry. He said he’d already eaten dinner, which wasn’t true. I kept offering restaurants. He kept turning them down. On the drive to my house the questions kept coming, and the deep breaths — his nervous tell. He was confused about why we were ordering the Kindle from my computer at home instead of going to a store to pick it out. When we were almost there he said: just take me home, you can order it yourself.

I told him no — he needed to be there. He came inside, used the bathroom, stood over me while I ordered it, and immediately said let’s go. So much for giving Kathy a break.

I’m going to try again — during the day, in the light. I know nighttime makes things harder for people with dementia and that probably played a big role. Still, it was disheartening. Sad. Not personal — I know that. But hard. He just cannot be away from Kathy. I’m not jealous. I’m just sad that this is where he is, and I know it’s not going to get better.

Our original dinner plans got derailed by the Bears game against Green Bay Saturday night. We ended up at Kenny’s instead, which is what Heather wanted for her birthday anyway. I brought decorations so it still felt celebratory. Honestly, it was fun.

Tonight is the fancy prime rib dinner with Aunt Susie and Uncle Brad, Maggie, and her family. Aunt Susie is spreading herself way too thin making Christmas magic for everyone, and she mentioned yesterday she’s been dealing with some health issues messing with her sleep. No bueno. I need her to take care of herself. I ordered fajitas for Christmas Eve from our favorite little Mexican place and I’ll be making fruit salad for Christmas brunch at the Wilsons’, so at least those parts are easy. Then I work Friday.

Of course I do.

I’m anxious about how Dad will do on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Trying not to spiral. Mostly failing.

I’m hoping tomorrow starts to feel more like Christmas. I’m bummed it’s supposed to be 50 degrees — a white Christmas feels too far away this year. Still, I’m excited for all of it. I just also need a nap.

And I really, really hope Santa brings me that backpack to carry Frank in.