LAST CRY HOME.
Dedicated to my Dad, (WOLF) Wayne Gordon (7/7/51 - 4/29/19)
Some of you know the story, the struggle and the journey. Losing a loved one to dementia is hard. Losing a father, a strong man you once knew is even harder. Grieving a person while they are still here and watching them suffer and fade away from the person they once were. I can tell you many tear jerking stories, but let me tell you a tale of a strong man, a mountain man as I once called him back in the third grade.
Wayne Gordon, my dad. Wolf. Yes, wolf. A nickname from his younger days! You could still find tools and other personal belongings he marked with his signature WOLF.
Dad loved wolves. If he wasn’t wearing a black wolf T-shirt, you would find him dressed in his second favorite thing: Harley Davidson. Dad loved riding his Harley. Sunny days you’d find him journeying on trips to Schellsburg and his hometown of Bedford. - just to enjoy the air. Like a true leader of the pack, Dad would often cry out and carry on during picnics and events with joy and just simply howlllllll.
Known for his personality, hard work and handyman skills my dad was also an avid hunter. Seeing deer hanging in the shed, showcased in the back of his truck and yes across the kitchen table to butcher was a normal scene. Dad worked third shift and was a dedicated hunter in his spare time - until he bought the “motor.”
After a winning battle with cancer, the heartbreaking dementia diagnosis hit hard. Dad is a fighter! He managed a lifelong journey with bipolar, manic depression and schizophrenia. How hard could this next chapter be??
Let me tell you it was hard.
During his last 3 years in the nursing home, I got my two wrist tattoos in his honor. FAITH and HOPE represent so much more than they say. As things became difficult I questioned. I started to lose both of these things. I needed a permanent reminder. A dedication and oath to be strong for him, for my Mom.
