It's no secret to you, if you're a regular reader here, that my pop has Alzheimer's bigtime.

It's why I moved here. Cause who wouldn't want to miss out on that horror show?

A few days ago, I stopped by the place he's staying to pick up a rifle he had that my brothers had no idea where or how he got. It's best not to let a person in his condition have guns, or knives, or cars, or oxygen...

We talked for a while. I made sure his TV worked. We talked about watching some John Wayne movies together and he seemed pretty happy. I took the rifle and walked to my car. This is a part of the world where I can walk with a rifle in a public place and no one even notices.

This morning I was having the weirdest dream. I was at a museum and there was a framed photobooth strip of 4 b/w images hanging just inches from the floor. I bent down to get a closer look being the Art Lover that I am.

I noticed one picture in the four panels was loose. I pushed on it and it was like that swinging metal door on the change pocket of a vending machine. There were quarters ready to fall out.

I must have hit the button on what the creator of this work wanted because the entire wall of the museum lifted up and revealed a huge warehouse of stacked coins. Millions of dollars in coins everywhere for me. I won big!

I walked around this space and was so happy. All my dreams would now come true! Then I found a door to another room.

I opened this door and found my father all frail and in a hospital bed with tubes coming out of him. I was shocked. This is not a happy dream. The rug was pulled out from under me!

What's all this money worth when I'll end up like him?

My heart was pounding so loud it woke me up.

There was a pounding at the door. Was this real?

I looked at the clock 4am or something...

I grabbed my clothes and found my brother and sister-in-law in the living room walking my dad over to the wood burning stove to warm up. He was shaking and wearing just his pajamas and a coat.

He was talking about how he had been driving down to Arkansas with me and my oldest brother Donny and how for some reason had to leave Donny stranded at a motel.

None of this happened, but we had to go get Donny, he thought. Donny might be in danger.

He went on and on about not knowing what was real. He was shaking. He was scared. I was scared.

How did he drive over here? How did he find his way?

Stanley and I put dad in the big boat of a car old people seem to drive and I drove him back to where he's staying. Dad had lost the keys to his room so he left the door open. It was below freezing so if dad had gone off the road, or couldn't get back in, he would have died.

I wondered if that's what he might have wanted. Maybe that's why he had that rifle. I know if I was losing my mind and losing control, I'd want some exit.

That edge is such a slippery slope isn't it?

How do you know when you're too far gone?

You have that gun saved just for that special purpose, you have those pills collected and stashed away for that day, but you forget where they are, you forget what they are...

The gun you saved for yourself becomes the gun you use on that relative you've forgotten but believe is trying to harm you.

Not fun.