Dad held a variety of jobs over the years, however the majority of his working career was spent managing an Agway feed and grain store. In addition to servicing the local farmers, the store also operated its own working farm. They had cows, chickens, goats, sheep, ducks – you name it, even a burro! Dad and I have always shared a love for animals. He would frequently let me wander through the barns, visiting the wonderful menagerie of creatures. As my interest in horses grew, he would often spend time watching me ride. Even in his advanced years, he continued to enjoy being around the barns and remained keenly aware of staying a smart distance away from the big animals. And after moving up here to NY State, Dad quickly became a regular at my current stable.
On this particular visit, I settled Dad into a chair in the riding arena and left him to chat with some friends while I got ready. He was always a good conversationalist and enjoyed sharing stories with everyone. When I came back I could see that he was talking with Julie, who had somewhat of a perplexed look on her face. After a few minutes of additional banter and some laughter, they finished their conversation. It wasn’t until days later however, that Julie shared the details of their discussion with me;
“Your Dad is so nice, I always enjoy our conversations!”
“Oh yeh, what were you guys talking about? I could see you looked a little confused.”
Apparently, Dad had struck up a conversation about the war (?) and commented to Julie that; “her people had recently entered the fray.” When she looked puzzled, he added; “Mexico. You’re Mexican right? I thought everyone who worked here was.”
At this point in his LBD progression, it was difficult to ascertain whether his dialogue debacle was more a factor of the dementia or his impaired vision. I’m guessing it was probably a combination of both, however Dad quickly realized his blunder as Julie (a well-respected area attorney) proceeded to gracefully tease him about his mix up. Dad was never prejudiced or discriminatory throughout his lifetime, however we had started to experience a few occurrences after his diagnosis that might have led someone to believe otherwise. He would occasionally come out with a remark that could easily be considered inappropriate or offensive. When this happened, I often wondered if the disease had somehow taken away his familiar character and/or the ability to filter out this type of commentary. Atypical of Dad’s usual demeanor, the progression of his LBD was both upsetting and interesting to see. I knew if he was truly aware of these changes, he would be more than mortified by his conduct.
Luckily, Julie’s lighthearted nature took the conversation in easy stride and they both laughed off his mistake together. Looking back I’m sure he was very embarrassed, but in Dad style he was always a good sport about things. Julie still smiles and laughs whenever she retells the story.