A Penny for Your Thoughts

Alrighty, then.

A friend asked me a question the other day. She was curious about what I thought might be going through my husband's mind. What might he be thinking? Believe me, I've asked that question  ("What were you THINKING?!") a number of times over the years! But let's not go there.

Seriously, though, what do I think goes through his mind? That is actually a great question, and I wish I could answer it. Can we know what someone is thinking without the benefit of input from that person? We watch what a person does or listen to what a person says, and then we make assumptions about thoughts based on those actions or words or our past experiences with the person.

Wearing his pj's under his
street clothes.
August 2017

What is going through a person's mind when he apparently thinks it's perfectly normal to wear a couple of ball caps over a wide-brimmed hat or a t-shirt shirt over a buttoned shirt or socks over boots or underwear over outerwear? (Also see:  Your Mother Dresses You Funny) How does one decide it would be a great idea to pour a cup of tea into the pencil holder or to try to eat crayons (or hearing aids or iPod ear buds) or to drop a handful of coins into the pitcher of ice water or to scribble on the computer screen? Or to pee in the corner? He couldn't explain these things to me when they happened months and months ago ("Honey, why are you doing that?!" received a vacant stare). He's less verbal now than he was then, so I've got to think that what goes through his mind is pretty basic. But who knows? It might actually be complicated.

He holds my hand tightly and smiles at me and gazes at me intently. But I wish he could talk to me. I would love to have a meaningful conversation with him. Is he in pain? Is he often frightened and confused, or is he now simply living in the moment without a clue of the past or a hint of the future? I don't know, but at least I don't have any reason to think he is living in a state of fear. I hope not, anyway.

He seems less anxious and more at peace these days, except when he is being bathed or changed (he must think he is being attacked and is trying to protect himself, then promptly seems to forget all about it when the ordeal is over). He is "at home" in a place where folks understand about Alzheimer's behavior and how to handle it. It's the next best thing to having him here with me. I did the best I could for as long as I could and probably longer than I should have, and I am starting to be able to accept that others can take better care of him now than I would be able to.

It makes me feel good to know that, so far, he seems to be in the right place for him. It also makes me very sad for both of us. This is not what retirement was supposed to look like.


This blog is about our journey, not anyone else's. If there's something you're wondering about as you read my entries, please do ask questions. Part of the reason I'm journaling our journey is to increase awareness and understanding of Alzheimer's.