I’ve been angry with my father for a long time…long before he got sick. While he was gone during my formative years, it always felt like he didn’t really care (though I’m sure he did). We only talked to him on the phone when we were in trouble whereupon he was the last resort disciplinarian. I was very close to him as a child, he coached my baseball and basketball teams and I wanted to go everywhere with him. While he was gone I had to teach myself to shave, my mom taught my to drive, I learned the birds and the bees through trial and error.

When he left I was a kid, when he came back I was damn near an adult. I’ve held a grudge about that for a long time, a part of me will always be angry about that. When he started acting strange part of me felt like “fuck him, he’s just a grumpy old man now.” But of course I was actually just scared, and that fear makes you not want to think too hard about what’s actually going to happen, or how you feel about it.

My father was was a medic in the Air Force. He was on tours of duty for the last four years of his military career. He left when I was 13 and got back when I was 17. His last tour of duty was in Guam caring for Kurdish refugees where he saw a lot of foul shit. We thought his strange behavior might be symptoms of PTSD. In hindsight he was showing signs and symptoms of dementia for probably 4 or 5 years before we got him tested.

The “let it breathe” line is just about how we can only sit back and watch nature take it’s course at this point. There’s no fight, just acceptance.

I moved to California when I was 19. My family still lives in Alaska. I’ve stayed down here and feel like it’s where I’m supposed to be, but I’m conflicted about not being there to help care for him.

My dad was never a big talker. Even before he started showing symptoms he wasn’t the type to call and ask how I was doing or anything. So phone conversations were always a rarity, but now phone conversations are like pulling teeth for him.

Steven is my younger brother. I’m extremely proud of him. He’s a hard worker, a homeowner, and has grown to be my best friend, though we fought like cats and dogs as kids. We tend to avoid talking too much about what’s happening. Steven is a real man’s man, showing emotion is not easy for us, it’s not how we were raised. That comes from our dad.

Our father was a medic in the Air Force, so even getting sympathy when we were hurt was a rarity. A sick day home from school was unheard of, and going to the hospital was strictly for broken bones or open wounds (which he often stitched and casted himself). That attitude of not showing pain or emotion is carried on from him.

After I released the song my father’s sister contacted me on facebook, reinforcing that their family was not “lovey dovey and didn’t show how much they loved eachother” so I suppose it’s generational.

As the eldest son, I try to stay stoic and be there for my mother and brother.

What first made us notice that something strange was going on with my pop was his repetitious conversational patterns. He would make a statement, it would be acknowledged, then a few minutes later he would make the exact same statement. That’s what initially made my mother take him to a neurologist.

Now he repeats himself a lot. When I went home in July to care for him while my mom made a business trip he would ask me about 20 times a day “Where’s your mother at anyway? When does she get back?” It’s terribly sad and difficult to not react emotionally to things like that.

Many moons ago my father and I drove from North Pole, AK all the way to Santa Barbara, CA. It was about a four day journey through Alaska, Canada, Washington, Oregon, and CA. It was probably our biggest bonding experience since my childhood. He put me up on a lot of music he was passionate about (Leadbelly, Muddy Waters, Robert Johnson, The Band, obscure Neil Young and Van Morrison records), we shared stories about drug experiences, and he opened up a lot about his military career. It was very memorable. He now has no recollection of the trip.

if i’m out and about with a lady that i don’t find that appealing, yet she wants things to pop off, i might tell her “nah girl i haven’t shaved my sack lately.”

hair grows out of my skin quickly.