Happy Anniversary -- 50 Years!

Our 50th wedding anniversary was February 28. It would have been February 29, but we didn't want to wait two years. It's a long story.

It was a bittersweet day. Part of me felt so happy and blessed to have made it to this milestone, and part of me was supremely sad. It would have been wonderful to have a big reception in a rented hall with catered food and a band and flowers galore and dancing and merrymaking, followed by a week in a romantic location, perhaps a recreation of our honeymoon so many years ago that feels like yesterday.

But, for obvious reasons, I had to scale back my hopes and dreams. So I got some balloons and table decorations and a couple of floral arrangements and a cake and some sparkling cider (alcohol not allowed). I dressed up and put on some heels and did my hair and took care with my makeup and dabbed a little perfume behind my ears, and off I went to the facility to celebrate with my man.

Don't stab me with the knife,
honey! Cutting the cake.

Unbeknownst to me, the activities director had arranged for tablecloths on the tables. Residents had been brought in from the other cottages, ready for cake and ice cream and "bubbly." Music was playing on the boombox. There was a special "head table" just for the two of us. There were toasts, and I made a little speech thanking everyone for joining us on our special day, and we all sang "Happy Anniversary."

Honestly, I don't think I would have been able to hold it together for a big party without my husband being truly able to participate. That's why I didn't plan one. It would have been overwhelming and melancholy. You know what, though? He was more alert than I've seen him so far this year. He knew something special was being celebrated, he was in a good mood, he loved his two pieces of cake, and he drank over half a bottle of sparkling cider.

The afternoon wasn't what I'd thought it would be; it was better. It was just right.

The Assessment

Back in October, I requested an assessment from a different hospice company. I was thinking about switching for a variety of reasons. I didn't end up doing that, because his current hospice company nurse started talking about discharging ("graduating") him from hospice at the end of his term. He apparently wasn't "going downhill fast enough" to stay on hospice, or so she said. Yes, I know. Isn't that a fine way to put things to a person's spouse?

Anyway, I was standing in the living room, chatting with the assessing company's nurse and case manager when someone came up behind me and bumped into me, as if on purpose to get my attention. Of course, I figured it was one of the residents, so I turned around with a half-smile on my face, prepared to be pleasant. I know. Most people don't have to "prepare" to be pleasant. Bear with me.

It wasn't just some other resident, though. It was my man, and he me to notice him. He stood very close to me, looked deep into my eyes, flirted with me, held me, kissed me. He was present in the moment, and I wasn't going to miss that! He was, in his own way, asking me to spend time with him. It was like he was asking for a date, and I sure wasn't going to say no. He knew me, and he liked me, and he wanted to be with me. Oh!

So, ignoring the hospice folks, I allowed him to pull me away, dance with me slowly to the music that was playing, and then walk with me, hand in hand, across the room. Tears of joy were leaking out of my eyes, and the case manager handed me some Kleenex. She was crying, too, and so was every other cognizant person in the place.

It was a beautiful moment, one of those gifts I talk about every once in a while. But it was months ago. Months of being told he's about to graduate, only to have him still be on hospice. It isn't as though he's getting better! This week, again, I was informed that his discharge was imminent and to prepare to transfer him back to home health ("home health" does not mean "at home" in this case. It means a nurse visits him in the care facility). I took the bull by the horns, contacted the VA, completed the home health evaluation, arranged for a hospital bed (because the bed he's in belongs to the hospice company), and had all my ducks in a row.

Yesterday, I got a call from the hospice nurse. They've decided he still qualifies, after all, and will review his case again in two months. And so it goes.