9.5: Connection

A normal day for me involves driving around the greater Phoenix area for my job. I spend a lot of time in the car, so it makes sense that I receive news of all kinds while driving. On one day this summer, the date I cannot remember, I got a call and my dad’s picture popped up on the car screen. This is one of my favorite pictures, from when my dad visited me in New Mexico, we went to a restaurant to eat green chile burrito’s. The picture is of my dad, happy as can be, with an empty fork, full mouth and a look that says, “Fuck yes, green chile and my kid”

When I answered, Wendy was on the phone and my heartbeat immediately elevated. To give some context, there have been a couple instances when I have received news that I knew would shake me, they all involve phone calls that do not go as initially expected. There was a call several years back that again was Wendy telling me my dad had a mini-stroke, there was another about sepsis. Granted not all calls that have shaken me have been about my dad, but when I hear a specific tone of voice coming from Wendy, I know to prepare myself.

She said, “J, what are you doing, can you pull over we have some news”. I promptly pulled over into a gas station parking lot, (I have not been able to go back to this gas station) even though it is close to my office). The news that followed has been at the forefront of my mind since I heard it. “Dad has Alzheimer’s”, “We don’t know what to expect”, etc etc.

The months that followed have been blurry but hopeful, but who knows if that hopefulness is warranted. Dad is on a great recently FDA approved medication that has potential to slow growth by 30%, he has a great support system, he is coming to visit, our relationship has quite literally never been better.

The hardest part about all this has been my perceived implication of our “connection”, I’ll call it. Connection, for me, covers the deep-rooted valleys of our relationship, our friendship, our father-son bond. I do not think many people have a bond like we do, we are SO similar. Our jokes resonate, people say our voices are similar, we love the same music, we talk about guitars and pedals on a weekly if not daily basis. The guitar talks, I’m sure, add to the chagrin of the people in our lives who wonder why we keep buying guitars and pedals. Uh, because this is art to us and there is potentially nothing prettier than a well-made 6-string. Dad might say a bass, but he’s wrong.

I love talking to my dad, that’s the biggest point of all this. We call each other and we laugh, every time. I love time with my dad, we went to New Orleans and Memphis this spring and saw music together just the two of us and it was a trip I will never forget, and that I am profoundly grateful for.

His blogs have had small titles and in keeping with the theme, I have decided to title this post, “Connection”. I feel that my connection to my father is what gives me the most angst. It’s both selfish and respect driven angst. I want to have many more years with him, the man that he is, the father, the friend. I also want more than anything for his peace, his autonomy, to be respected.

So, in keeping with the progressiveness of our father/friend relationship, I am going to pursue an added measure, which I’ll title “advocate”. I am going to research, I am going to push his optimism and his hopefulness because I feel he deserves to have someone completely in his corner outside of Wendy. Because she deserves to have her moments in this as well. She deserves to have breakdowns and moments of uncertainty, fear, and anger.

As I write this, Dad and Wendy are coming to visit me in Arizona this week. While some of our trip will be seeing sites, and eating good food, and going to look at yes, more guitars. I also know that there will be some heaviness in conversation, some questions that may not have answers yet, and some assurances on my part that there is not going to be lethargy surrounding his support/their support. They’ve earned that. They’ve earned more than that.

In keeping with my own internal positivity, I chose to end this post with just that. I say “cheers” to you all who have been present and positive and supportive. I “cheers” Wendy who has been a rock and a beam of light, and unwavering support for my dad (not to mention me throughout life….), I “cheers” the infusion that can slow this horrible sickness, I “cheers” active Alzheimer’s researchers who, when they figure it out, and I say “when” because I know it’s coming, will affect so many so positively. Lastly, I “cheers” my father, Sean Terwilliger, my biggest advocate, my friend, my dad. You’ve earned every second of the support you get. I love you. And be prepared to fight with us, cause we’re going down swinging.

Jonas