Wish There Was A River

Export to PDF | Export to DOC

It’s the day after Christmas. What I am still dealing with are the immense changes in my life. For the first time in over fifty-two years this was a Christmas without my wife. I saw her on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, but my wife is really gone. She kind of knows that I’m her husband, but doesn’t know my name. When I asked her how many children we had she said “Forty Eight “. I laughed and told her I didn’t think we were that busy. She became tearful and told me that all the answers are locked up in her head and she just can’t reach them. She continues to want to leave memory care and come home. I continue to feel guilty but I know that she is where she needs to be and I really could not provide the care she needs

The whole Christmas thing was making it worse. I don’t think she really knew it was Christmas despite the decorations and the efforts of the Memory Care Staff to celebrate it with the residents. It was hard on me just to see her and see how much she has lost.

I spent time with both my sons and their families. Seeing the grandchildren’s joy with their toys and gifts was helpful, but eventually I had to come home to this very empty dry house. I was one of those guys who put up lots of decorations and outside lights and even reindeer on the lawn. My wife would always worry when I got out the ladder to decorate the roof. Even when we moved into this townhouse I would make an effort to decorate outside. We have two Christmas trees and boxes of ornaments and lights to put on them.

I didn’t put anything up this year. It just didn’t feel right without her. I think that the whole “without her” is dominating my life right now. I’ve talked to other men and women whose spouses have Alzheimer’s and it is the same story. It is losing a little bit of them each day. I keep telling myself to man up and accept this situation.

I have difficult decisions to make. I wanted to get thru Christmas before I started clearing up most of her possessions, books, and clothing. Our bedroom is still packed with her things. It is no wonder after fifty plus years of marriage. The question I keep coming back to is after I do let go, what is next?

Right now I don’t sleep in the bedroom. It doesn’t feel right. I also don’t watch TV aside from the news. When I do watch it, I stream it on the computers. We have a nice entertainment center with stereo and large TV. We both enjoyed it. She liked TV more than I did but over the last year she would watch maybe half of a TV show and then want to go up to bed. She wouldn’t really remember anything she saw. I don’t like to sit there by myself so I have just stopped going down there.

I know this is a process and I don’t want to continue to sound like “Poor Me”, but the process is still very mysterious. I want to know what’s next and when will this end. When I go to the monthly support group I hear much of the same story. This process is very unclear. The Kubler Ross stages of grief are helpful, but there is an end to it. At least there used to be. Now the stages keep revolving until you get to acceptance, but then you can start all over again. The difference here is that she is still alive and sometimes I see her shining thru before she falls back again. I wonder if she dies if that will at least start an end to this. Then I begin thinking what if I die first? Would she even know if I was gone? Will my sons be able to manage this? Would anyone come to visit her regularly?

These are the thoughts that go round and round in my head. I think I am avoiding making some very practical decisions about my own life. Do I want to keep living in this large townhouse by myself? If not where would I go? Right now I am going to pack up some of her books and donate them to the Library here in town. I am also going to drop off some things at Good Will. At least this is a start.