Daddy with his cousins- Dec 2014.

Daddy was blessed to be able to spend many decades of his life in his own home town where he was born and raised. As a result, he was surrounded by his family- an older sister, many cousins and several close relatives all around him. His maternal family in Edayarnmula was especially dear to daddy's heart. In my childhood, whenever I visited daddy's home, he would make it a point to visit his maternal uncles and their wives, their children and families in Edayarnmula. From these visits, I got to see how much daddy loved these family ties. 

Even as the factual memory fades in their minds, emotional memory lingers on during the advancement of dementia. I could see this as daddy was going through 2014- 2016. Daddy showed steady decline in his factual memory and intellectual functions. Daddy lost his ability to understand conversational English language around 2016, but he could still read words written in English even in 2018; although daddy could no longer recall my career/ profession after 2015, he clearly knew that I was his daughter until 2 years later.

During his years when dementia gradually took hold of him, daddy still found comfort in seeing some of the dear people from his childhood. Whenever i visited daddy in his later years, I often took him to his dear cousins in Edayarnmula while daddy could still travel out of home. I knew that they had a very special love for each other. Nurturing warm emotional relationships keep  the mind calmer and happier, even in the midst of dementia.

Daddy as the celebrant at my cousin's wedding in 2011.

As a minister in his church, daddy participated in all the various life celebrations of the mmbers of the church. Prayers at home, weddings, baptisms, funerals- he was a part of the important events of people's lives. This included playing an important role in the lives of the members of the extended family too.

As a child I have watched my father with awe and admiration, at his grand robes. The man who stood in the altar was a far cry from the very human man whom I knew as my father. When I visited his parishes, I watched him lead meetings, give communion, lead worship and speak kindly with his people. I watched him from a distance, thinking 'this is MY dad'.

As an adult with my own vocational calling that is not very different fro my father's, I learnt that the robes and the position came with responsibilities. 

This is what I learnt from my Godly father-

We heard a calling and we had to follow, no matter where the path led.

We are called to serve the poor & destitute, and to serve as HIS servants.

We are not assured a safe passage, but we are assured of HIS constant companionship.

We are promised that HE will go with us.

1st January 2015- Nellikkala MT Church

Daddy's prayer usually started with 'Our kind God and father in heaven...'. Prayer has always been the bread & butter of my father's life. As a minister, he always had a prayer ready for any occassion. I often remember waking up to the sound of his prayers as a youngster. 

On new year's eve 2015, at the break of the new year, we joined the New year's eve worship at my father's home parish in Nellikkala. Daddy was invited to pray at the break of the new year. He started the prayer with 'Our kind God and father in heaven...' as always. Within a few minutes, the sentences were getting mixed up and repeated. He was aware of his struggle as he wrestled with words and tried to conclude the prayer.

This man of God, my father, was struggling to verbalise the prayers of his heart at the age of 83.

Prayer was the back bone of my dad's life. As a Christian minister, he was always the one to lead prayers both at home and in public arenas. It was painful for me to see my father being so confused while carrying out a task that was so natural for him. It also came as a surprise to me, as  I lived away from India. In the subsequent years, I requested daddy to pray at the end of most of our long distance telephone conversations. I had the need to hear my father's prayers. But I also wanted him to know that his prayers were still very precious to me, even when they sounded like jumbled up jargon to the outside world.

Daddy with parishioners at Kadammanitta MT church

On Maunday thursday evening in 2014, daddy & I visited his old parish church in Kadammanitta. Daddy was especially fond of this church congregation, but had not been there for a few years due to his ill health. It was clear to me that he was happy to be back there in his old parish church. Many of the senior parishioners who unexpectedly saw daddy that evening were also overwhelmed to meet him after many years. 

During the years when daddy served as the parish priest in Kadamma Kallelil Mar Thoma church, I was in secondary school. I was a regular visitor at this church during my school holidays. I remember meeting his parishioners, making my own friends among my age mates in the parish, visiting many families and being part of the church and communion services led by my father. He was warm, compassionate, a bit of an 'absent minded professor' who was sometimes late for meetings, but was always a loving & caring pastoral minister.

Daddy was invited to be the co-celebrant that evening at the Holy communion sacrament. On the Maunday thursday evening in 2014, at the age of 82, my father distributed the holy communion for the final time at his beloved Kadammanitta Kallelil MT Church. He had hand tremor, and his hands shook as he served the wine to his old parishioners. Daddy was very frail, but insisted on kneeling on the floor during the prayers, as he used to do in his younger days.

Daddy gave a short speech during this service, expressing his joy and gratitude at being able to visit his beloved parishioners again. He searched for words which seemed to escape from his memory so swiftly. He struggled to complete sentences without being able to find the right words. He realised the lapse, and tried his best to cover this by changing the topic mid-sentence. As I sat among the congregation listening to my father's struggle with words, I realised that this was perhaps more than just his 'absent minded' self. This marked the beginnings of daddy's journey through the world of dementia.

Daddy was not able to visit Kadammanitta Kallelil MT Church after this. Looking back, I am grateful to God for giving us this very beautiful opportunity to return to a church that was so dear to both daddy and me, to bid farewell to many members of that community whose lives have truly touched daddy's and our family's life. 

Dad with his cousins whom he had known from childhood.

It is very painful to watch me fading from the memory of my loving father.

In early 2016, when daddy was 83 years old, he started finding it difficult to recognise me. There was still a large degree of emotional recognition, but the picture of my image was fading very fast in his memory. When I reminded daddy that I was his first born, he then gave me an apologetic look (which is different from the baffled look I started receiving 8 months later).

He recognised me easily when I was in his home. But when we were in unfamiliar places visiting friends or relatives, he could no longer recognise me. This is a clear example of 'contextual memory'. We all rely on this a lot of the time. For example, we may struggle to recognise our post man if we suddenly met him at a party in a formal attire. The face may look familiar, but placed out of context, his face becomes another familiar face that we struggle to recall.

During the interval periods of lucency, daddy & I sat together, sang hymns and prayed. The old hymns which were familiar to him were still in his memory. 

Emmanuel & me with dad at home

APRIL 2014

In April 2014, my dad had a 'talk' with me.

Dad: Child, come and sit here. I need to talk to you.

Me (slightly annoyed): Daddy, What is it now?

Dad: You listen to me.. You need to think about a christian family.

Me: Now what! You are telling me what your society is repeatedly saying.

Dad: No, listen to daddy... You find a person that is suitable to you. Or, we will serach for a person if you want us to. But you must think about a christian family.

Me: But I don't want a family life like ours. 

Pause.....

Dad: Not everyone won't be like us. People are all different. You think about what daddy said, and having a christian family life.

DECEMBER 2015

Daddy & I had another conversation in December 2015.

Me: Daddy, I have something important to tell you.

Dad: What is it? 

Me: I know a good Christian man who wants to marry me.

Dad: Is this a proposal that came home to us.

Me: No, this proposal came to me.

Dad: Who is he? Where is his 'swadesham' (home town)?

Me: He is called Emmanuel. He is from America.

Dad: America? Is he from Kerala, working there?

Me: No, he is from the Philippines, living in America.

Dad: Hmm...Did we not get any proposals from boys from here?

Me: I did not like any of those. Emmanuel is a good Christian man.

Dad: Hmm... It is good that he is a good man, and a believer. People may say that we prefer 'outsiders'. But I have nothing against it.

Dad: Take your time. Pray about it. Make your decision prayerfully.

(And I did as he told me to do.)

MAY 2017

Emmanuel and I got married in the Holy Trinity church in Oxford. We went home for a family prayer led by dad.

Though my father did not recognise that Emmanuel was my husband, he understood that this was a significant person who had come home.

Daddy in CMC Vellore for my MBBS graduation ceremony in 1999.

In life, there are often moments where we receive an advice that is meant to hold true for the rest of your living years. 
During a casual conversation with daddy in the early part of 2013, he asked me where my next 'medical missionary work' was going to be. Although I am not a medical missionary, I have been offering my expertise free of charge in resource poor settings for many years. This is what daddy meant by 'missionary work'. I pondered a while and then grabbed this opportunity to let him know that I was heading to the African continent next. 
As a father, he clearly wished for me to be near him in his old age. However, he also understood that it's God who calls each one of us for our work. Daddy blessed my calling and added 'We would have liked you to be nearer to us. However, you must go where God calls you to go'. 

A statement which is liberating, and yet, embracing in love. 
I am grateful to my father for this liberating love.

Singing a Christian hymn with daddy- 2018.

I had a very interesting experience in 2014. I was working as a clinical researcher in Child Neurodisability with a British research organisation in rural Kenya during that year.

One evening, our security guards brought an elderly European lady into our office. She wanted to talk to someone who could help her with helping her ‘children’ who had Neuro-psychiatric problems. She said that she has driven in her car for over 2 hours to reach us. So, the guards felt that the best advise would come from the ‘Neurology department’…

This lady appeared well informed & a good talker in the beginning, though she was a bit distressed. She was a white woman, and we were sitting in rural Kenya with a very small white population.
While listening to her, it soon became apparent to us that her ‘children’ were now middle aged adults with families of their own. She was concerned that they were trying to steal her properties/ assets from her. More surprising was that she told us that her properties were near us…. And she explained that we were all in Oslo (Norway) at that time. The odd thing is that she told the whole story to us in Kiswahili- the language of Kenya!

We realised that she had dementia & possibly other neurological issues. She knew her name, her family members’ names & had her phone with her. After much persuasion, she let us talk to a Kenyan gentleman who was her care taker/ house help from her mobile phone. This person was so relieved to hear from us/ her- he was worried because she had been missing for several hours.

This lady had driven on her own from Malindi to rural Kilifi in her own car without informing anyone, and was confused as to where she was… She could speak & understand Kiswahili fluently then, but her mind thought she was back in Norway- her home country.

The mental confusion, paranoid thoughts, confabulation, return to childhood memories- all which Rev Davis mentions in his book (Ref 1) was seen in this lady.

Daddy started showing signs of dementia in 2013-14… and the most distressing time was 2015-17.

As daddy’s dementia advanced, daddy too was sometimes found wandering around in the homestead and the compound/ outside, looking for mom…. When mom was actually having a bath or doing something in the house. Those days there were no regular carers for daddy at home. 

I saw a different picture of daddy when I visited him, because during my brief visits home I was always with daddy- rarely leaving his side. He enjoyed our quiet presence, hearing old familiar hymns, sitting in the veranda holding our hands & watching the leaves move… conversations had become sparse & repetitive as early as in 2015/16…but in our quiet times he did have short lucid times when I could even talk to him about some of the big life issues at times….

Ref 1: My journey into Alzheimer's disease. Robert Davis (Book).