A casual observer might not yet notice my husband’s dementia, at least most of the time. He seems alert and conversational. As always, he is a punster, full of the most groan-worthy dad jokes. Friends comment that he certainly hasn’t lost his sense of humor. I find that sometimes he uses humor to cover a lack of understanding. Not everyone would see that.

Recently, our five-year-old grandson told his mother, “I’m funny, and you’re funnier, but Papa is the funniest.” It is good that he can still laugh and make others laugh as well, even if it is humor that appeals mostly to kindergarteners.

However, sometimes, his jokes now are incomprehensible. We were at a favorite pizza place. My daughter and I were going to share a margharita pizza. Miklos smiled at the server and said, I knew a Margharita once and she lied to me.” The server didn’t know quite what to do or say to that. He turned to us for validation, but not even the five-year-old could figure out what the joke was. It was simply bizarre. We should expect more bizarre jokes in the future.

My daughter said to me later in the evening, when she was looking over my last post about the bad teeth. “You’re worried about him starting to look foolish. He looked foolish at the restaurant.” He not only looked foolish, he was foolish. I will need to get over being embarrassed by it. He will continue to say more and more bizarre things. But I still want people to be able to see the brilliant person he has been, not just a foolish old man.

Is there anyway to communicate to friends, let alone casual acquaintances or brief, impersonal contacts like a server or check out person at the grocery store, that the person in front of them is more than a doddering old man. He is a scholar, a philosopher, a thinker? I don’t think there is. And I think this is my problem. Miklos seems unfazed by how others respond to him.