On the day it started again...

The day it started again…

I started writing about my dad, and his Alzheimer’s diagnosis more than seven years ago in 2012. During that time I would write random notes, things about him not remembering something. I would write down questions to myself like, how long did he have left? How would he share his stories if he couldn’t write anymore? I would write about what his diagnosis means for my future, for my kids?

Image credit — Ty Sugg — Unsplash

I’m not a writer.

Dad was a real writer. He was a poet, a newspaper reporter. He freelanced, and would write technical articles for publications. His work was published in books, and magazines. I always thought that was cool. I was proud of the work he did, he was so independent, but it didn’t make me want to be a writer.

My dad has Alzheimer’s

Around the time of his diagnosis he was talking about starting a blog or a website to attract more clients to his freelance writing business. It got to the point that he would repeat himself every conversation that we had.

Me: Hey dad, how you doin? Whacha been up to?

Dad: Oh you know me buddy, I’m always working. I’m trying to get something started for my freelance writing business. I’m going to call it Clawrite. Do you think you could help me start a blog?

Me: Yeah dad, I can help you with that.

We would spin our wheels. Dad wasn’t able to focus. He couldn’t give me any details about what he wanted to do. We would just have the same conversation every time that we spoke.

I’m not a writer.

Me on the other hand. I did whatever I fell into. I started working in retail right out of High School. I became a manager while I was in my early 20’s in the same year that my first son was born. I leveraged my management career to shift from retail, to IT sales in 2005 when my second son was born.

Fast-forward 7 years to 2012 (two more kids later), and I haven’t written anything besides whatever was required in school. For some strange reason, I start. I start to write. I start with notes to myself. I write on my phone, or in an app. This was when I made a discovery about myself…. It was easier for me to write my feelings down rather than to speak them out loud. I wrote about this in a recent post on Medium…

Pain.jpg

Sometimes it’s easier to write down what your feeling rather than saying it out loud.

I’m writing.

Trial and error. That’s how it begins. Over the years I get distracted with what blog platform to use, where to host my blog, which template do I like this week? Oooh, what about analytics? How do I set up Adsense? Whats my Alexa ranking?

Sometimes I cry when I write.

I don’t know what to write about. Nobody will read this anyway. I can’t be so vulnerable, and let the world know that I’m hurting. I have to keep that part private. Let me try writing about something else.

Fast-forward again. This time to 2017. I move my family back from Austin to El Paso to be close to Dad, and Mom (she’s been his sole caregiver up to this point.). I’ve quit my job… I have time to write. clareifi.com as it exist today is born.

This is the first post that I shared on Clareifi.com… again.

It was about making the move to be close to dad… It was short. My writing voice seems different to myself just two years later.

On the day it started again…

I’m not a writer.

At least… I wasn’t… Until…

I've been meaning to write this for a long time now.  I accidentally lost some (thankfully not most) of my old blog posts when I switched from wordpress to squarespace.  A couple of days ago, mom asked me, "what happened to Clareifi?  I can't find it anymore!?"  I've got them saved mom.  I told her.  I just can't really get into writing.  I still feel as if I'm not sure what I want to say.  My sister told me once that even if I felt that way, that I should just keep writing anyway, because it's therapeutic.  I read an article yesterday that offered similar advice...  Be consistent, regardless of what you're writing about.  Sure I could keep a private journal, but what if...? If I can share, and offer my perspective...  What if it helps?  What if it inspires?  Is that worth sharing?  Wouldn't it be nice to have a record of what was going through my own mind on a particular day and time in the past.  That's what this is.  It's good for me.  It's a reflection of my thoughts.  This is how it will be, on the day it started again.

Me and Dad on FaceTime

 I've been feeling a pull towards dad more and more.  Not just dad, but also feeling like mom who is the sole caregiver needs to have some help.  She's told me that she feels lonely sometimes, and that it's nice to have someone to talk to.  That's why I'm making the plan...  The plan to be there, to be close to them, to be there for them.  They would be the first people to tell me that I shouldn't change my life - my family's life for them, but they're also the people that ever since the second that I was born have been there for me.  They have never failed me, they have never let me down, they have always put my needs before their own.  So why shouldn't I?  I have the support of my wife & my kids.  You see, we are happy.  We know that we will be happy no matter where we are, as long as we are together.  

So...  Here we go.  Another beginning.  Another adventure.  Another Chapter in our life...  Let it begin.

On the day it started again.

Euri