One day in November, I took Dad for a ride in his beautiful Jaguar convertible. My dad has been a car guy all his life and loved each one, but this Jag brings out a special joy in him.
It was an excellent day – warm weather, free time, open road, and just me and Dad.
Not all days are this good. The day several months before this when Dad realized he couldn’t drive anymore. The day, weeks later, he decided he could drive again and Mom had to strongly remind him he couldn’t. “Who said I can’t”, he demanded.
Driving, cars, freedom. Earning the rights to these things as a 16 year old boy was important to him and he took his responsibilities seriously.
Losing those rights was difficult and confusing. Some days he understands. Some days he feels tortured. People making rules for him vs people caring for him. How can this make sense after 70 years of driving and cars being part of his identity?
My dad has dementia. He has a family who cares for him. He has people to drive him wherever he needs to go. Most days that is enough for him. But not all days.
Kelley Irwin 
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