My Crazy Dad Ran Away Again

For the second time since I've been back in El Paso my father has snuck away and literally run away. The first time Lilypons and I were sitting in the living room and he opened the door and stepped outside. Usually it's just to look for my mom, but this time after about 10 seconds he didn't return. I looked outside, looked up the street, looked down the street and nothing. My mother had gone to drop off the midge and she drove up as my sister, Lilypons and I searched frantically for him. My sister jumped in her car and drove up the street, I drove down the street towards Mesa. I had to put gas in my car, so I pulled over and while I was pumping, I saw him in the corner of the 7-11 just chillin, doing I don't know what. My sister pulled in and I pointed into the store to direct her to him. He came out and threw his hands up and said "what? I wanted to go for a walk!" in the nastiest most hateful voice ever. The disease has turned my good-hearted, sweet, thoughtful dad into an jerkhead who gets anxious and uber-angry in snap. Sister tried rationalizing, I just opened my door and invited him in my car, fumes steaming from his nostrils. We drove back up to my block and stopped at the desert, which is behind my house. I told him to get out because we had to look for my momma, who had been looking for him in the desert. After looking for her for a bit and realizing she probably got the call from my sister that we found him, we walked towards the car and he started with his confabulation (a landmark of Alzheimer's)"I just went for a walk and saw all kinds of critters-desert dogs, road runners, rattle snakes", when I knew he had actually just walked the opposite way to the corner store.

So, that was escape number one, escape number two happened today when Lily and I were sitting at the kitchen table, while mom was upstairs getting ready. He got up from the sofa and slipped out the front door, leaving the door quietly cracked (a ninja move he must have learned in Vietnam). He walked down the driveway and I opened the door and said "Dad mom is calling you" (two can play this confabulation game!). He came back in and my mom asked him to water the plants. As he was watering, he placed the hose down and off he went, in ninja silence once again. I ran out the door and sure enough he was running down the block. I took off after him utilizing my own running and ducking technique in case he looked back. I finally found him at the bottom of the hill, walking briskly towards Mesa once again. I ran back home, since I had two dogs in tow, and my mom was in her car, Lilypons in the backseat, ready to go pick up the runaway and drop the blond one at school. Oh the days of Alzheimer's and wandering.
I hate Alzheimers. It full-on sucks for the people around you, who care for you, who love you deeply, who hope and pray that they'll create a cure that will turn you into your old self. We've watched my dad go from a highly respected social worker, activist, super athlete, happy go lucky guy, husband, and dad to a shell of his old self. Full of physical energy, unable of retaining anything longer than 5 seconds and void of any true emotional connection that isn't my mom. My mom is his touchstone and the second he feels her absence, crazy ensues. I hate Alzheimer's.
I'm crossing my fingers that his route will always be the same if the wandering continues. I constantly wish for his trust to be transferred to me, so I can take more of the burden my momma has every second of every day. It's a futile hope, as the second he is in my presence sans mom- he's asking what I'm covering up, where my mom is, or if I'm there to take care of him. Sometimes I'm driving and I fear he'll jump out of the car just to spite us. Have I mentioned I hate Alzheimers?
In case there is a day that his route changes, I will post a picture of my crazy dad. He's happiest when he's busy doing things he used to obsess about. Here he is shining his shoes old school style in preparation of his Peace Corps reunion trip to D.C.