“Joie-de-vivre” is sorely lacking in my life although I play
the game. I giggled and inhaled Donizetti’s opera at the HD movie today as
magnificent voices extoled L’Elisir d’Amore
while the protagonists manipulated each other for three hours.
Such is the game plan; write my heart out, sell myself in
print and online to promote my book, visit Bob and watch him obsess about guns
and feel unsafe because the care center “shot” the residents with flu vaccine.
I must be positive and friendly, supportive and understanding, while my heart
breaks as my husband no longer spontaneously calls my name.
When my mother who had Alzheimer's disease from 1992-2000 forgot who I was, it felt like a sudden loss. She said one day that I was " a nice lady who comes to visit" and that is who I remained. With my husband the process which has begun is much slower. He still knows who I am, but he sometimes refers to me as "she" when I am standing beside him. When asked, he can tell others my name when he sees me or a picture of me, but when I enter, he no longer holds out his arms to hug me in greeting and he no longer calls me by my name. He holds my hand and says "We're a good team" so I sense the connection between us still exists.
Unfortunately for my husband, he remains aware of his cognitive losses; he wants to sit beside me and talk but when he cannot express himself, he says so and wants to stroll. When he picks up a magazine, he is upset that he cannot read more than the headline and he has questions about words he still understands. This week it was "Family" from Family Circle magazine.
"Where is my family?" he wanted to know. I explained that they live far away, in Virginia, in New Jersey and his brother in Florida.When I showed him the pictures he has displayed of his children and grandchildren, he said, "That was so long ago." This afternoon his son from New Jersey will visit. Let's hope the time spent will be enjoyable.
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