by Denise Roberts
Dad was diagnosed with cognitive decline five or so years before his death. Although the doctors never put a name to it, the reality was Alzheimer’s disease. We had seen the signs.
An engineer by trade, he could no longer troubleshoot the systems he helped design and install. The man, who in my opinion, could do anything, and who had practically rebuilt an old home as a hobby, was unable to install an electrical outlet.
Naturally quiet, he became more withdrawn from conversations.
Anyone who has traveled this path with a loved one knows how difficult it is to witness your loved one fade away.
When the neurologist confirmed what we suspected, my prayers began in earnest. For healing, yes. But really for more.