My dad has always been my biggest fan.
He regularly showered me with compliments, deserved or not.
He believed in me from the very beginning of this flamenco endeavor.
He believed in me during the times I didn’t believe in myself.
He was my most faithful newsletter reader, opening and reading every email I sent, at least once.
He would often call me to comment on something I’d written about, or he would respond via email.
When I started sending out tutorials, he even gave some of the moves a go!
You probably already know that he and my mom came to Jerez for the very first Flamenco Tour in 2012 and took part in some of the activities. (He joined class with Mercedes one day and played castanets with us, came to bulerias class, and caught a crowded show at Peña Tia Jose de Paula.)
He wanted to see what it was all about.
Things began to change about a year ago.
You see, last summer when I returned home from Spain I noticed my dad was having a hard time speaking and finding words.
He also was forgetting many things.
I thought he had perhaps suffered a stroke while I was away.
After much struggle, my sister and I finally got him to agree to see his doctor about this.
In the fall he was diagnosed with dementia.
In January, more specifically, frontotemporal dementia.
Last December, just before Christmas, Francie and I went to stay with him.
It quickly became clear that he should not be alone.
So we stayed throughout the winter and for much of spring.
His illness progressed rapidly, and he soon required 24 hour care.
My sister and I found a caregiver to help us out at home part of the time.
Then in May we decided to move my dad to an adult foster home to get more support.
He lives there with four other residents, two caregivers, and the owner and her family who live in a separate part of the house.
I see him every day and keep him up to date on flamenco happenings, seeing as how he was my biggest fan 😉, but I’m not really sure how much he grasps.
My new dad cannot come to a show.
He cannot open emails.
He can hardly walk.
He can barely speak.
The front of his brain is shrinking; areas of the brain associated with personality, behavior, language, and movement.
My dad is still here, but it’s almost as if he were an entirely different person.
He still laughs.
He still eats!
And he still loves listening to music.
Sometimes I show him video snippets from class or clips from shows, like Mercedes and Santi’s amazing performance last month.
Sometimes he even plays palmas with me as we listen and watch.
I think he enjoys this.
I miss the dad I knew who is nowhere to be found.
At the same time, I feel extremely grateful my dad is still here.
I don’t know how to explain this, but I think you may understand,
The privilege to be able to touch your loved one and feel their beating pulse,
To see them smile,
To be able say, “I love you,” and know that they hear you even if they can’t say it back.
💕
While I struggle to find my rhythm again, in work, in life in general, I know that’s okay. I also know many of you have experienced or are experiencing something similar, and I send big hugs to you.
Mercedes Ruiz helping my dad put castanets on during the first Flamenco Tour to Jerez in 2012
Hanging out with my dad in July 2023