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This week I did the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. I (with my siblings and my Mom) put my sweet, little, Alzheimer’s afflicted Dad into a nursing home. It hurt like hell, and it still does, so I thought I would just write about what a wonderful, unique individual he was when he was himself.

At Christmas every year, Dad would walk with us kids to McCree Park where he would climb the trees and pick mistletoe. My baby sister Jenny would egg him on to climb higher, further out on the limbs. We would laugh until our sides ached as he dangled precariously from the tree tops. We always took home way more mistletoe than Mom wanted in the house, but Dad always put it over her head first thing and claimed his kiss, and she didn’t complain too much.

Dad was a big fan of University of Arkansas football. The year they played Texas for the National Championship, we were all watching in the den. Arkansas made a fine play, and Dad got so excited he jumped up and knocked the globe out of the chandelier with his head. It flew up in the air, and he caught it as he and the globe both came down. We thought he was pretty special.

My Dad was the biggest fan of jazz that I’ve ever known. His tastes were wide and varied. He loved the straight ahead stuff from Bud Powell and Art Pepper to Thelonious Monk and Miles Davis. And he really loved our local jazz hero, Red Garland. He loved the musicians and the singers and collected them all. He had (actually we still have) every album Billie Holiday ever made and many in duplicate because he would buy the fantastic boxed sets which were released after they were originally done on LP. The same goes for Ella Fitzgerald, Frank Sinatra, Anita O’Day, Mildred Bailey and Benny Goodman. He loved the big bands and collected all of them. And the big band singers - what can I say. The Helens (Forrest, O’Connell, Humes, Ward), June Christy, Peggy Lee, Jo Stafford and his beloved Martha Tilton. His LP collection numbers somewhere between 7,000 and 8,000 and his collection of 78’s runs about half that. And among all that great jazz, you’ll find a smattering of opera, classical, and authentic country such as Mother Maybelle Carter and Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs.

Dad’s love of music was not just in listening. His knowledge was downright encyclopedic. He knew the year a song was recorded, what label it was on, and could name all the musicians. When my brother, Steve, and I would sit for hours and listen with Dad, it was always sort of a game for us to identify the singer and the sidemen accompanying. When I didn’t know the singer, I’d just guess “Helen” because there were so many of them I had a decent chance of being right. This was a terrifically fun game to Steve and me. I was pretty good at the singers, but Steve was much better at the more difficult trivia than I was. The music education I got from my Dad I would compare to one from any institution of higher learning.

Dad was a reader and a writer and challenged us to do both as much as possible. He was a lover of movies and art, and we would make lists of favorite things. My lists of favorite movies, favorite songs, and favorite singers would change with each year. Dad loved Alice Faye, and he said a day never went by that he didn’t think of her. Oscar night was a special night at my house. He was so proud of the Academy when they awarded Midnight Cowboy. He didn’t think they would have the courage. After all, it was the only movie rated R ever awarded (maybe even nominated) for Best Picture. And we all cried for joy when Meryl Streep won for Sophie’s Choice.

I will miss him so much it’s unbelievable. The shell of a body that is left of him will linger, but the essence of the man is gone. And it’s unbearably sad.

My Dad has advanced Alzheimer’s and is going downhill fast.  Late in the day or evening, he is starting not to know who my Mom is.  But that’s not the half of it; he thinks she’s a man.  At night he tries to throw her out of the bed because he “doesn’t sleep with men.”  It would be funny if it weren’t so fucking sad.  Believe me, my sister doesn’t think it’s funny when she has to go over to their house in the night and calm him down so he won’t throw Mom out!

I idolized my Dad.  He was an English major in college, and the world of words was a treasure to him.  He prided himself in perfect grammar, and he never misused the verbs “to lie” and “to lay.”  (It’s lots harder than you think when you get out of present tense!)  He was a collector of jazz records, and has upwards of 5,000 LP’s and 78’s.  He has every song Billie Holiday ever recorded and just about every one Ella recorded.  He had an encyclopedic memory of all the musicians who played on each recording, and where and when they were recorded.  Today, he picks up the records and looks at them like he’s never seen them before.  He swore to me that someone sent some of them to him in the mail, unsolicited.  It just makes me cry.  However, he still corrected my brother-in-law’s grammar just a few weeks ago.  I think that will be reflexive with him to the end.

He’s always had a phenomenal memory.  He was very politically astute and when he got into discussions with people over political issues, he was able to site facts and quote the pertinent authorities off the top of his head.  In fact, that was when we began to realize he had Alzheimer’s.  He would be in the middle of a political discussion, and all of a sudden no one’s name would come to him.  He would become so frustrated, it would send him into a depression.  I had no idea it would devolve to where we are today.  What a nasty, senseless disease!

For the recipe today, I think we need something comforting (and trouble free) - like soup!

Italian Sausage Soup

2 lbs. Italian sausage (half hot and half sweet, or all sweet, your preference)

2 garlic cloves, minced

2 cans artichoke hearts, drained and chopped

2 cans diced tomatoes (undrained)

1 package Lipton onion soup mix

1 teaspoon each basil and oregano

1 teaspoon Italian seasoning

1/2 cup orzo

In a large soup pot, saute sausage until no longer pink.  Add remaining ingredients and thoroughly mix.  Add water just to cover and simmer at least one hour.  It’s even better made ahead a day and reheated.