becoming Something other

I got a call, I got a phonecall from my mother
 Your Dad is changing, he is becoming something other
 And you may not recognise him when you come
 And he may not realise it's you
 There's part of him that is completely numb
 He'd not been well; his eyes and legs were almost useless
 He'd been depressive, he hated looking so damn foolish
 And the CAT scan showed his brain was losing mass
 And he didn't know each morning
 Where he was or how he'd come to this impasse
 He took the phone; his voice was querulous and distant
 I hared an old man and knew it in an instant
 And he told me how it was to be so blind
 And he told me how it was to know
 Precisely how it felt to lose his mind
 I asked my Dad how much his vision was impaired
 He said he sees things but that the
 things he sees are things that are not there
 Then he paused and quietly spoke these words that chilled
 He said, "I have my own small thoughts about that"
 And I felt the air around me grow quite still
 For my Dad was telling me that he was dying
 He was telling me in such a gentle way
 And I couldn't stop myself from softly crying
 As he formed the mindless words that had their say
 I got a call, I got a phonecall from my mother
 Your Dad is changing, he is becoming something other