The Reunion

And to think I was worried.  To think I was nervous, anxious,  even skeptical.  For two weeks I had been pointing to her picture and saying, "This is Dede.  Your daughter.  She is coming to visit."  And even though he was doubtful and confused, I should have known he would pull through.  I wasn't expecting the tears, though.

I can count on one hand the times I've seen my father cry.  There was my college graduation and....probably something else?  I saw sadness in his eyes when I moved him out of his apartment, and when he was officially diagnosed with Alzheimer's, but don't recall any moisture.  I've heard that the eyes are the gateway to the soul, and I can usually read Henry's emotions more accurately through them, as he can be reluctant to say what he's feeling.  I've seen fear, terror, confusion, anger, rage, contentment, and joy.  These days, more often than not they are sullen, and on a good day I can get them to light up a bit. 

Dad and Dede, Aug 2008

It's been two years since Dad has seen Dede, his oldest daughter.  She lives in Austria and it's difficult to make the trip to Chicago.  To me, it seems they've always had a beautiful connection, and so I was greatly saddened when I couldn't get him to recognize her in the pictures.  When she stood in front of him yesterday, however, something clicked.  It took a moment, but then there they were- tears of joy, recognition, jubilation.  It was the most beautiful reunion I have ever seen, and I got teary-eyed myself.  For two and a half hours we sat, sang, talked, laughed.  Dad laughed like a child- free and giggly.  Like an embarrassed chuckle for no reason- he would say, "Frank Sinatra" just out of the blue, then start to crack up.  Seeing her again meant everything to him, and in those tears he expressed nothing but love for the daughter who had been away but not forgotten.