My dad-in-law, Pepaw, still insists that I'm going to jail for stealing his truck (see earlier post on "I'm going to jail"). He really, really does not like me now.
Yes, dementia is really playing havoc with him now as he's obsessing about his pick-up truck that we brought here to Illinois when we moved him in late April. We gently took the keys away before we left Florida because his driving terrified us. We had to do it to protect him and everyone else on the road.
The essential question families must ask themselves if they're worried about their loved ones' driving: would I allow my child or grandchild to ride with them? If the answer's no, the keys must go. That's it. Period. And I'm not being flippant when I say, don't let pride take a fatal ride.
Pepaw's truck is sitting in our driveway out of his sight, but this week, at his assisted living apartment, he has composed a new song: "It's my truck. You stole my truck. I can drive. I've been driving all my life. You're going to jail …" Second verse, same as the first. One hundredth verse, same as the first …
Pepaw was an auto mechanic for many years. He threatened to call a towing company to bring his truck to him and a locksmith to get a new key made. That's why we can't park the vehicle at his residence. He can't be trusted because he'll find a way to fire it up.
Tired of his accusations directed at me and my husband Roger, I told him, "Yes, I'll go to jail … if I LET you drive. You have a memory problem, and we don't want you to get hurt or hurt someone else."
He gave me the same evil eye he did when he threatened to whoop my ass the day before.
Alzheimer's has robbed him of common sense, power to reason and judgment. He says there's nothing wrong with his memory or driving. He thinks he drove here from Tennessee. Roger never let him behind the wheel during that drive from Florida. He says he drove an ice truck and never had an accident. That's true … 60-some years ago. And he was an okay driver during his life until dementia took a skill away that he doesn't even know is missing. (Any day now he's getting the official form from the doctor and state that will revoke his driving privileges. We hope that helps when he sees it in writing.)
Now, as for stubbornness, I think that's a Pepaw trademark that has mushroomed in recent days as he will not acknowledge anything that has actually happened or that HE did.
Yes, on Monday, the staff caught Pepaw removing a license plate from a vehicle in the parking lot. When they told me, I was appalled and asked him about it. He looked me in the eye and said:
"I didn't do that. I found it laying in the grass."
"Everybody saw you do it!"
Now, I've learned in two and a half months when Pepaw is confused or forgetful and when he's simply lying. There's a mannerism about him that reeks of a lie, and boy, did he stink at that moment.
I couldn't help blurting out in laughter, "You're lying!" No, dementia was not the culprit here.
"Nope." His voice and expression were cocky and confident.
That little shit. I had to say it: "You know stealing a license plate is against the law. You could go to jail, too!"
Nope, I was still the felon. "The police are coming to knock on your door and take you to jail for stealing my truck. That's against the law."
I was nice. When he went outside for a smoke, I removed from his room a pocket knife, two pairs of pliers and the screwdriver he had used on the license plate.
A little while later, he came up to me and said, "Did you take my screwdriver?"
"Yep." I smiled, eager to confess my guilt because he knew he had been busted.
He shook his finger at me. "You're going to jail …"
Well, it looks like Pepaw and I may both be headed to the big house. With my luck, we'll probably get adjoining cells …
Guard!!
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