It is March 9, 2018, and Luc Beemsterboer (52) enters the nursing home where his father has been living for three days. He walks through the long hallway and types in the access code for the glass sliding doors, behind which dad just happens to arrive. A little man, a little crooked by old age, neat jacket suit. When he sees his son, he momentarily pretends to run past him, a teasing twinkle in his eyes.
“How are you doing, Dad?”, asks Luc, when the tall and the short man stand head to head.
“Shitty”, is the answer – with a tone of: what did you expect?
Jacques Beemsterboer (80) is not in a nursing home because he really wanted it badly. He would by far have preferred to stay with his Toos, with whom he has been married for 55 years, in their new flat in the center of Papendrecht. But it did not work anymore. Jacques has Alzheimer’s, is confused, at home he ran around at night as a ghost, keeping Toos busy with him at the most impossible times. Sometimes, he realizes that he has dementia. “It enters your life insidiously,” he says when you ask him about it. “I can still participate quite well in conversations about nearly anything, but will I still know about it in fourteen days, that’s another question.”