Imagine for a moment that the person you love most in the world died today.
You’re in shock
Your mind feels like a caged wildcat, throwing itself against the bars in all directions, just to get out and back to reality as you know it.
You feel paralyzed, immovable.
Ugly crying is a simple word or thought away.
Maybe you’re mad at the world, and the next person who lets you down gets more than either of you expected.
When your husband has dementia, someone might say to you: “We have not just lost our husband.”
No. But…
When I ask him how he feels and he tells me he doesn’t know
When he struggles to lift a foot so I can put on his underwear
When I watch as puzzlement flickers across his face when he can’t figure out how to put a pill in his mouth or which end of the straw to put his lips. And just try to imagine that you have to coach him on how to swallow that pill.
Try to imagine how you feel when he can’t get into the car
When he can’t put on his seatbelt
and when he doesn’t know how to get out of the car again.
Imagine that he’s asleep and you go into another room, only to return and find him in a panic because he woke up and you weren’t by his side.
He is paralyzed with fear of sitting. Really. He freezes half standing because he doesn’t know that the chair will be right there when he sits.
Imagine waiting patiently while he sputters out random, disjointed words as he tries to tell you something that, in his head, HE KNOWS! And you see that little death of dignity in his eyes as he realizes he can’t speak, and you try to pretend that you totally understood what he just said, just to try to ease his mind.
Now imagine that you look at photos with him as they tell you to do. Photos of your life together. Imagine that he looks at you in wonder and says “We did all of that?” and the heartbreak weights you down so you can hardly move.
And don’t ask him if he knows your name. Just don’t do it.
Don’t let the tears fall as you watch him struggle to speak. Don’t you dare cry when he says “Ice” and it turns into a sick game of charades that you never win. (it wasn't ice)
Don’t panic when you see him begin to fidget and you know he needs something but can’t tell you what it is. Now it’s 20 questions, and you can’t win that game either.
And don’t think that you can talk to your friends or family about it either, oh no. They still expect you to be that person that you once were. That strong person who can do anything she wants, the one who bends life to her will daily, never takes no for an answer and gets shit done!
They don’t know that you cry. That you can’t stop crying. That your heart breaks to see your beloved husband as he marvels when you point out where to put his lips on the sippy cup.
They don’t know that you cry harder when you look into his face and you say “I look terrible, don’t I” And he begins to laugh, because he knows THAT is a trick question he dare not answer.
And you laugh together, mixed with your heart wrenching sobs, because you’ve just experienced one of those precious scraps of of Him, and you know that he’s still in there. And he lifts his frail arm so that you can lay your head on his shoulder and feel his tender embrace as his forever searching hands flutter over you.
You close your eyes and more tears come as you remember other times in his embrace. Times when he was a Tiger. Times when his arms were strong. Times when you were a team and not just a sad, shriveling half of what once was amazing.
No, it’s true. I have not just lost my husband.
I. LOSE. HIM. A THOUSAND. TIMES. EACH. DAY.
Now imagine feeling that pain every day, and YOU try to continue to be a good neighbor, a good friend, a functioning adult.
Gotta go feed the wildcat…
