Christmas without Santa
I have personally known The Man for about 8 years. The head full of gorgeous snow white hair and the full beard are real, along with the twinkle in his eye. There is no soft belly to jiggle; he is fit and firm and somewhat of a health nut. Kindness, gentleness, and a keen sense of humor are part of his soul, not a once-a-year pose. Love of children and animals is natural to him, not contrived. His almost constant companion is a beloved bulldog, not the red-nosed reindeer of lore.
The first thing I saw leave him was the twinkle in his eye, to be replaced by a look of confusion, and sometimes what appeared to be fear. Soon there were long gaps of silence as he was speaking, often followed by a rueful “I keep forgetting what I want to say. If I hang around for awhile, maybe it will come back to me.” Then the shared phone calls among friends: “Did you hear: he blew through a stop sign right into the path of a truck…it’s a miracle he’s alive...got to take the car keys away.”
Now he has moved to live with a daughter several states away, far from the little children who lined up every year to share a little holiday magic.
If you know a family who has a member with Alzheimer’s disease, please give them an extra hug this year. I know that Santa would really appreciate it.
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