Not too good.

I wish there was something I could do to help.

Me, too. But it's okay.

It makes me very sad to see you sick and weakened and so helpless. You've always been so strong and self-reliant. I'm trying to be cheery and positive, but I'm sure you can see in my eyes that I am sad and worried.

Yes. It's a damn mess. I must look like hell.

No, but you're not exactly dressed to go out dancing.

No, and I'd look like a fool hopping around on one leg on the dance floor. If I had that leg, I'd swing the foot across the side of the head of the doctor that cut it off.

You and mother were great dancers. You looked most in love when you danced. She's so short and you're so tall, but when you danced, you were a perfect team of grace and joy.

She was a good one. Where is she?

She's at home. Probably sitting with Blacky and watching a talk show.

Damn TV. Sits in front of the thing forever. Same old crap... Oh, she got a friend for Blacky. Another black cat.

A Blacky junior?. I hope it's not as wild as Blacky was.

He was a something. Caught a rat a day. Now he comes right up on the bed and sleeps next to me. Purrs like the old Model T we used to back up the grade at Torrey Pines. Well he used to, anyway. Mommy's taking good care of him. She gives him milk and food right there in the bedroom.

Dad? What is it like having Alzheimer's?

Oh... It comes and goes. And it's coming more than it's going. I get lost. And then I get angry. I can't figure anything out and I want to smash the goddamn door down. And then I come back. And I don't know where I've been. It's a damn piece of crap. That's what it is. Makes me want to beat the crap out of ... But I ... I don't like it, Rob.

Daddy, I want to talk about some things we've never talked about. Is that okay?

All right.

It seems like it's always been hard for us to talk about things that are very personal ... and to express our feelings... but I feel like I need to get some things off my chest and also try to understand some things.

Okay.

You had great opportunity to be successful in show business. You had the talent and you were right there with other great talent in the heyday of the Pasadena Playhouse, but you didn't move forward professionally. Why not?

Well...there were some other things more important to me. Like my mom and dad. My parents did okay by me. I remember Walter pointing to me at the orphanage and saying, "I want him. I won't take any other. He's a good one." And from that point on, he and Francis took good care of me. I didn't want to leave them. They did a lot for me.

They didn't want you to go into show business?

No. Not really.

Did you feel like you owed them?

Well, maybe. But Rob ... they did good by me...

Do you ever regret not going on to the big time?

No, not really. I think I did pretty well. Things didn't turn out so bad.

That's for sure. You've been very successful and you've also helped a lot of people.

Yes. I feel good about that.

You and Mom. How do you feel about that?

Well, we've had some good times. But we just don't do too well a lot of the time. I love Mommy, and I've done the best I could to take good care of her, but I guess I haven't really been a very good husband.

The anger and violence in your relationship has always been hard for me to deal with. All I ever wanted to do was make peace and try and settle things. But I never could. I guess I finally just gave up. I accepted that it was just a part of your relationship that no one could change.

Sometimes she makes me so damn mad I could spit ... Dammit! ... I'm sorry, boy. I'm sorry it's been hard for you.

It's okay, Daddy. It's okay. I carried some of the anger and violence into my first marriage and to my children, but I've gone to a lot of counseling and I'm determined to stop the anger and violence from passing on ... or at least slow it down. I think I'm getting better. I'm learning to look at my anger before it gets out of control and explodes. When I can see it, I can begin to understand it and deal with it ... without losing control. I'm trying.

That's good, Rob. If you're trying, sometimes that's the best you can do. You take good care of Nancy. She's a good one. She's a gem, Rob. And you take care of that little boy, John. He's real special.

I will, Dad. I promise... Dad, something has bothered me for a long time. I know I let you down for a lot of years when I was a bum with no real job and no direction in my life. I was lost for a long time. Just hanging on, really. I tried to do some good during that time, but I just didn't have any goals. I couldn't seem to care about things. I've tried to figure out what went wrong, and now I think I know. There was nothing left for me to do. I had been so obsessed with being a good athlete and then a leader and then making it in show business. All of the things I thought you wanted me to be. And after I achieved all of them, there was nothing left. No mountain to climb. No dragon to slay. It was like I lost my heart...my dreams. Getting there — the fight, the challenge, the struggle. That seemed to be all there was. When I got there, it was an empty victory. I just didn't care any more. My life became an endless party to celebrate empty victories until the victories were forgotten and then it was just a party figuring out where the next party was. I'm sorry, Dad. I wanted you to be proud of me, but I just couldn't sustain anything. My heart was gone.

You were never a bum, Son. I never thought you were a bum. Not like the bums that never work hard or never amount to anything. Rob, I'm sorry that you felt the pressure to make me proud. I don't think I ever knew how to show you unqualified love. Love that sought nothing in return. I never learned. I'm so sorry. We all get lost sometimes. Sometimes no one else can show us the way. I know you were lost. But I always knew you would find your way. I tried to help you in the best ways I could, but it was not my way that you had to find.

I think I'm finding my way now. I hope I am. You've taught me so many good lessons. About hard work, smart work and finishing a job. About the beauty of nature. About taking care of others. About laughter and music and making people feel good about themselves. But now I think I'm starting to find some of my own values about family and relationships and about the little things, moment to moment, that bring value to our lives and to the lives of others.

That's beautiful, Rob. You keep it up. And don't forget, boy. You know how to heal... yourself and others. Don't ever forget that. That's a gift. Use it.

I will. It scares me sometimes. The huge responsibility. But I'll try to let it come out more and more.

Good.

Dad, what am I going to do when you're gone? Who will I have to make proud of me?

Yourself, Rob. Be proud of those things you do moment to moment to make life better. Be proud that you can help others and help yourself. Be proud that you take good care of your family. Be proud that you are finding your own way. Be proud that you are learning to love.

Thank-you, Daddy. And thank-you for all of the beautiful lessons that you have shown me. Whenever I finish a job well done, you're there. Whenever I laugh and see laughter spread through a room, you're there. Whenever I am inspired by music and song, you're there. Whenever I till the soil, plant the seed and nourish the flowers, you're there. Whenever I help someone see their own strength, you're there. And whenever I touch the sensitive glow of love, you're there. I love you, Daddy.

I love you, Rob. I'm sorry I didn't tell you more often. I'm sorry I couldn't show you better.