Daddy & Dementia

At dinner, we all decided to sing a Christmas Carol as grace.  My dad didn't genuinely feel the Christmas Carol, so he started singing a drinking song over the Christmas Carol.

This didn't touch some deep nerve.  It didn't make me feel insecure.  It made me feel scared for my dad.  What the fuck?  Who does something like that?

Throughout the day, it felt like my dad needed to be the center of attention, whether he was lecturing us at breakfast about how much better the world is getting (and being frustrated if we questioned his fact--according to him an average of only 1,000 people have been killed in war each year in the 2000s whereas 65K were killed a year in the 1930s, so clearly life is getting better.  And I was like "but, if you count 9-11, I think about 10,000 U.S. citizens were killed in the 2000s in war, and that is just the U.S.  How many were killed in Iraq?  What if The Lancet  is right and it was over a million?  What about Darfur?  Those number just don't make sense.  He got annoyed and lectured us about rising incomes and was annoyed when my sister asked if his numbers were adjusted for inflation.  He seemed like a kid practicing a speech for class, wanting to be the center of attention.

If my dad does have more medical issues, I will, absolutely, be there in whatever way he needs.  Always.  No matter what.  And I have to say, I'm really wondering if there is something else going on.  Everyone else in my family thinks that I jump to that because of John, and maybe I do.  But something, in addition to being cavalier with my feelings, is going on.