A Bitter Pill

The past couple of days have been excruciating. I checked my husband into a care facility yesterday for another, longer respite. Last time when I dropped him off, it wasn't as traumatic at all, because it was just for a week. This time, it's for a month. At least a month, and then we'll see.

Filling out the paperwork was a lengthy, drawn-out affair with plenty of warnings about things that could go wrong, the probability of medication changes, the inadvisability of visiting for a few days, and all kinds of things that made me feel, frankly, like I was abandoning my husband to the whims of others rather than simply passing the baton for a while.

I put his favorite blanket on his bed, placed some older family photos (because I thought he might remember the younger people in them) on his nightstand, and organized his clothing. I made sure he ate his lunch and was comfortably ensconced in the television room with his new roommate, someone we have already visited with a friend several times. I took that to be a happy development.

But the closer it was to a good time for me to leave in order to avoid rush hour traffic, the more anxious I felt. The more emotional I became. The harder it was for me to smile and combat my tears. Somehow, even though in my mind it wasn't yet a permanent placement, I felt I was betraying a trust. I was leading a lamb to slaughter. This man who was gazing at me through confused eyes was counting on me, and I was letting him down.

How's that for believing a lie? But those were the thoughts going through my head, and I had to beat them into submission. I felt ill. There's just no way I can remotely come close to describing the experience. I was heartbroken and am bereft. Golly, I am weary of being bereft. There is just nothing uplifting about this long goodbye.

The end of March and first of April is already an agonizing time for me, with deep sorrow and painful memories. And now another one has been added to the list. I must press in close to my Lord, my Helper, my Friend, my Redeemer. There's a reason Psalm 121 is my favorite.