It took me nearly 4 years to write this book. That's not to say that I've toiled away at it for 4 solid years; only that it's been something that I've consciously tried to avoid. I wrote the first couple of chapters in December of 2016, right after I spread my father's ashes in Smith Lake. I was on a business trip to Memphis, and passed through Arley where mom and dad had owned property for 30 years.
The first few chapters were typed feverishly in a public library somewhere in northern Mississippi during downtime between meetings. Since then, whether it was business meetings, social gatherings, a myriad other activities, or down right laziness on my part, I never really seemed to get back into it.
Reliving all the angst and pain that went into caring for my dad, I realized why I was so reluctant to finish it. I found myself in a really depressed funk. I wasn't sleeping well, and my mood deteriorated rapidly. There's just no other way to say this: Alzheimer's sucks! And caregiving for an Alzheimer's patient is a horrible experience. So here I am, four years after he passed, still lamenting those days as some of the worst of my life.
Knowing there are so many others out there who are going through the same thing, and so many more yet to come, I knew in my heart that the book had to be written. It's ugly. It's honest. And it's pretty much in your face. But it's the absolute truth.
There's nothing romantic or funny about Alzheimer's. I watched my dad, who was a brilliant, wicked-smart, highly-intelligent man who could do differential equations in his head, wither away before my eyes into a 300-lb toddler, afraid of the dark.
I pray to God that you never have to deal with this dreaded disease. But, if you do, I pray even more that something within my scratched pages somehow helps you cope.
Thank you, from the bottom of my heart for purchasing the book.