This site is dedicated to my beloved father who passed away May, 2012 at the age of 92, and my beloved mother who passed away June, 2012 at the age of 88. I will miss them forever.
If you are taking care of a parent or other loved one with dementia, you’ve come to the right site. This is a safe place where you can tell your stories, vent your frustrations, have a laugh, have a cry, share a lesson or useful tip, and learn from others going through the same thing.
This is also a great place to find helpful articles on a variety of topics concerning dementia, caregiving, and taking care of our own minds and bodies as we age.
Dead Men Don’t Eat Chicken may be a bizarre name, but dealing with dementia on a daily basis is a bizarre experience. It’s also unpredictable, sad, and scary as hell. But we don’t have to go through it alone.
My Dead Men Don’t Eat Chicken Story
Both my parents have dementia. Mom is quiet and doesn’t say much of anything, but dad is another story. He can be lucid one minute, and absolutely whacky the next. Dead Men Don’t Eat Chicken came from a disturbing conversation we had one day when I stopped by with his favorite chicken lunch.
Me: Come on dad, let’s eat.
Dad: What’s going on here?
Me: What do you mean? It’s lunchtime. Let’s eat.
Dad: Am I dead?
Me: No dad, you’re not dead.
Dad: I thought I was dead
Me: Nope. You’re very much alive.
Dad: I thought I was going to the cemetery today for my funeral.
Me: You’re not going anywhere. You’re not dead. Let’s eat.
Dad: (Agitated) ARE YOU SURE I’M NOT DEAD??
Me: (Agitated) YES, I’M SURE! DEAD MEN DON’T EAT CHICKEN!! COME ON!
Dad: Well, if I’m not dead, I might as well eat!
My emotions ran the gamut that day. I laughed hysterically at the absurdity of the conversation, and cried my eyes out at the sadness of it. It hit me hard that although my dad was physically still with me—in reality he was no longer with me at all. And I shuddered with the knowledge that it was never going to get any better.