Fred Conger

 The last year has been challenging for all of us.  It has been especially hard on my father.  My parents wintered in a small home in Phoenix, Arizona.  They have been snow-birds for the last few decades: first in Florida (usually Flagler Beach area), then in Ajijic, Mexico.  They settled down in Sun City Arizona, first renting a home and finally buying a small place of their own.  They made their usual trip late in the fall of 2019 to spend the winter there, little did they know what awaited them.

Mid-April was the time in which they would return to their condo in Darien, IL.  But by April last year, our world was shut down and we were all forced to shelter in place.  The truth is, my dad has been struggling with the onset of dementia for a while.  The pandemic and being stuck in Arizona was the worst thing for him.  He found himself in the hospital over the summer with pneumonia.  He claimed that they put him in a closet in the basement and they were trying to harm him.  None of us know what really happened since the hospital was closed to visitors, but it was the start of a rapid decline.

I flew out in August, to try and figure out what was going on because to be honest, the information was sketchy.  I was planning on being there for the doctor appointment, but due to a miss communication I showed up in time for his podiatry appointment and not the pulmonologist or internist.  I was shocked at the condition I found him.  He was still able to carry on a conversation, but in the midst of things, wild stories would enter in.

Two weeks after returning home, mom called and asked if I could fly out and bring them home.  On September 21st I flew to Arizona and brought them home Darien on the 23rd.  When I arrived on the 21st I was not certain that we would be able to get him back to Chicago.  Somehow, God willing, we made it safely to their condo.  

After his return, dad rallied a bit.  I began the process of searching for an appropriate senior living facility to move them into.  Dad said the only place he would go to was Oak Trace in Downers Grove.  It was the first place we visited and it was lovely.  For whatever reason, every apartment that we looked at was under renovation and my dad believed that they would have to move into an apartment without any walls.  His mind just could not understand the process that was going on.  Scott had been encouraging them to look at places out by his new home in Geneva, IL.  That lead us to look at the Covenant at the Holmstad.  My dad fell in love with the place.  By December we signed the papers to have them move in February.

In early January, we began to realize we needed to get them moved as soon as possible and we were able to push up the move in date to Jan 15th.  It was a struggle, as the burden fell on mom.  Dad had a hard time comprehending that they needed to downsize at least half their stuff.  The agency we worked with did a fantastic job in helping make the move go smoothly.

In the midst of all that Scott and Joette were tasked with getting the house in Phoenix emptied out and sold.  They did a fantastic job, and within just a few weeks the house was gone.  At the same time, Nancy and I organized the grandkids to help get the condo on the market.  It did not sell as easily as the place in Arizona, but just a few weeks ago we were able to get the sale finalized.

Since the move, dad has continued to slowly deteriorate.  For whatever reason, in the last few weeks the deterioration accelerated.  Mom became unable to keep him safe and the hallucinations began to take over.

Last week dad fell getting out of bed and hurt his arm and maybe his back.  X-rays showed nothing was broken but he is black and blue.  As he became more and more unsteady and the hallucinations increased, with the help of the staff, mom was able to reach the conclusion that we needed to seek additional care.  

Yesterday, we moved dad into the health care center, to try and get him stabilized, make sure he really didn’t hurt anything in the fall, and wait for a room in memory care.  Moving him was a terrible experience, as he became very agitated and angry, most of all he is frustrated because at some level knows he can’t do things, but his mind no longer fully cooperates.  I am certain we made the right move, but it is heart breaking.

My father has always been my hero.  His extreme extroversion could drive me nuts at times (I am wired more like my mom) but he was always the one I could go to when something was perplexing me at the church.  He was always there.  Every church that I have served, but one, has had the opportunity to hear my dad preach.  It was always a little disconcerting when people would ask me when my dad would be back 😉.  He was the best preacher I ever heard, and those congregations as well.  By the time I moved to Meridian Street in 2016, he really could not preach any longer.  I am sad that the people here never got to hear him, but I am thankful that I had the best teacher, mentor, and friend that could be found.

Please keep my mom in your prayers.  She is doing great but has her moments.  She will continue to reside at the Holmstad in her apartment.  I hope that dad can find peace.  He would always say: “I am not afraid of death, I am afraid of the process.”  I pray every night that Stewart will come and bring him home.