My travel buddy
Lonely, yet not alone. Sorrow that melts into your bones. Sadness that leaches the life right out of you. That is how these times feel like. Even with the familiar spark of life, of love, and closeness, it still is overwhelming.
There is a line in a song, that goes something like this: "You don't know what you got until it is gone." Well, to say that line isn't true, because it is with Dementia, for the "what you got," is going, and I know that it is gone.
Just looking at the pictures that I use, to see who Sweetie was just 2 years, 3 years ago, to who she is today. She is a hollow shell of that woman, and I know that more and more of who she is, is going to be sucked out of her and I'm going to be witness to all of it.
Saturday
It was a day of freedom. My caregiver reported in and gave me sometime off. Got to the course, teamed up with three other men, and played golf. Had a good round, some great shots, and was able to forget the fog of Dementia for a time.
When I returned home, I talked with my lady, and asked her to send me a report on Sweetie after the time she spends with her. Highlighting her progress as her Dementia advances. I felt that because she sees Sweetie once every two weeks, that she can better catalog her advancements. For me, it is living with it, and I don't see something happening until it has happened, and then it is Oh yea, she does or doesn't do this or that.
I remember in a support group meeting, one of the members said that he wished his wife would hurry up and die. She was in hospice, and would rock back and forth from, last breath to sitting up and eating like a horse. He was tired of waiting, of the heart breaking effects of this disease, he wanted relief for both him and his wife. Sometimes, I feel that I'm getting into that some boat. Knowing what is ahead, and the long road ahead until that day comes.
So, I wait, I watch, I care for her, everyday. As I ride with her and my Driver, down the Road to Dementia Town, Keeping our Shiny Side Up. C'ya, Luv ya, and God Bless.
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