I read a facebook post recently that I found clarifyingly interesting. A wife was talking about her husband, who has Alzheimer’s, and about the frustration he goes through when trying to fix things. It got me thinking and I realized, I was right there with him.

I was never a builder or craftsman but I used to be a really good technical guy. I could figure out computer issues, easily learn computer programs and program technical thigamabobs. I could also put things together pretty easily, if I had directions, but not without frustration, not without screws and nuts leftover and not without lots and lots of cursing, but I still put them together and they are still standing. I am proud of that fact.

Things have changed now that I have Alzheimer’s. Yes, I still try to put things together and program technical thigamabobs and learn new computer programs but, I’m no longer able to do them without assistance. That’s a hard pill to swallow. At first, I felt defeated. Afterall, I’m the husband, the dad, the one they look to when something goes wrong. Now that I’m no longer that guy, I felt as if part of me died.

So, I did what any pig-headed man would do, I continued to try to put things together and fix things. I threw things in frustration and then cursed them. I read, re-read and read again instructions that may as well have been written in Klingon. Instead of fixing things and putting things together, I made them worse. Instead of walking away with a feeling of accomplishment and pride, I slithered away in tears. It did me no good to continue down that road and my family certainly didn’t need to be subjected to that.

So, I went from a Do-er to a Helper. I now listen to them. What I mean by that is, my instinct still says, “I’m the fix it guy. I can do this!” but my wife says, “why don’t you let me help you with that?” or “You should get one of the kids to help you.” They know and understand I still want to be an integral part of this family. They know my frustrations better than anyone. They know what I want to do but they also know that I have limitations and they accept and embrace those limitations. Instead of excluding me, they include me. Sure, they do most of the work and reading of instructions, but I’m right there with them.

So yeah, I can’t fix things anymore. Alzheimer’s has taken that away from me, BUT . . . it has given something in return. It taught me that it’s OK to ask for help. It’s OK to admit to myself that there are certain things I can’t do anymore or don’t remember how to do anymore. It has brought the four of us closer than ever before. It’s not without frustration, sadness, tears and yes, still some cursing (all on my part, by the way, lol) but we work together, as a team.

I have the best family I could ever ask for and for that, I don’t care if I can’t fix anything anymore.

Until next time . . .