The Wanderer

I just found this post that I wrote on March 4, 2018, and apparently never uploaded to the blog. So, this is where we were a year ago, and this is his photo a year ago. He looked so healthy, didn't he? You can't tell a book by looking at its cover.

As you read this "poem," I'm sure you will get a sense of just how frazzled my nerves had become from the daily, hourly, minute-to-minute stress of caregiving alone. Perhaps I didn't post it for that very reason, but now my hope is that it might help someone else to realize the time has come to place a loved one in professional care:

Restless,
Pacing.
Up,
Down.
In,
Out.
Door is open!
Heat is on!
ARGH!

All afternoon,
Lunchtime
to
Dinnertime.
In,
Out.
In,
Out.

He's out the door!
Gate is open!
Oh, no!
In front yard,
Pacing.
Looking.
Pacing.
Looking up the hill,
Looking down the hill...

No!
Don't cross the street!
Come in,
It's cold!
Okay.
Come in,
It's cold!
Okay.

Nothing.

PLEASE come in;
PLEASE close the door.
PLEASE sit here
While I cook dinner.
PLEASE!
PLEASE!

Evening.
After dinner
until
Sleepy time.
Up,
Down.
Up,
Down.
Up,
Down.
Up,
Down.
Up,
Down.
Pacing.
Pacing.
Please, sit down.
PLEASE! My God!
Please help me...

Do you detect the exhaustion and desperation I was experiencing? I didn't remember the last time I hadn't slept with one eye open, if at all. I was badly in need of respite and had scheduled it. Little did I know that we were just weeks away from what turned out to be his permanent placement. It was time. Some might even say it was past time.

Happy Thanksgiving

During our music therapy yesterday afternoon, my husband was swaying to the music coming through his headphones and singing along unintelligibly. His eyes were shut tight and his facial expression oozed sincere effort as he held me, dancing. It was so sweet. He used to do this in the old days, and then he would smile and laugh self-deprecatingly. He didn't have confidence in his singing, but he actually sang quite well. I don't think he believed me when I told him so back then, but maybe he does now.

Something about the music or lyrics made him open his eyes, and they started to fill with tears as he looked out the window into the distance. Was he remembering something? Trying to remember something? In the moment for a moment? We looked into each other's eyes, smiling through the mist. Just briefly, so briefly, it seemed he was aware and with me. Or maybe he was elsewhere entirely, and I was reading too much into it because I desperately want our connection to be strong.

A bit later, he surprised me. I was taken aback. He said my name! It has been weeks since I last heard him utter it, so it was quite unexpected and pleasing. He was irritated with me at the time, so it was the familiar, exasperated "ChrI-i-Is!" from days gone by. He was frustrated because I was trying to divert him from the room of a bed-bound, very sweet lady. I'm told he likes to walk in and stand briefly just inside the doorway as if checking on her. Then he turns around and goes right back out. She doesn't seem to mind, if she's even aware of it.

He did the same thing when a gentleman at the house was transitioning to Heaven. It was as if my husband didn't want him to be alone. I can't explain it. I think it's the gentle, compassionate side of my man, unimpeded by filters and walls, showing itself in an endearing way. It gives me peace that, somehow, he appears to have empathy for the plight of others. Or maybe he's just wandering into other people's rooms.

It's Thanksgiving Day, and we have much for which to be thankful. But it's the first Thanksgiving without my husband at home, so it's sad, too. Thank you for reading my ramblings and being patient with me and encouraging me. I am thankful for you, for your support, and for your prayers. Tell your family you love and appreciate them today, even if they drive you crazy. Happy Thanksgiving!

An Ode to Sleep

Oh, Sleep! Oh, Sleep! What a gift you are from God!
You restore me physically;
You restore me emotionally;
You restore me mentally.
Without you, my sense of humor vanishes into thin air.
My body is a burden to me, and my breathing is painful.
My steps are halting, and my duties are overwhelming.
I know I am not equal to the task without you,
And I face my day with great trepidation
Knowing there will be no rest found in it for me.

Oh, Sleep! Oh, Sleep! What a gift you would be from God!
You elude me while he dozes;
I feel your onset, but he startles awake
And sits bolt upright on the edge of the bed, fidgeting.
You vaporize as he wanders around the room,
And I lie awake, ever vigilant, until he returns.
He requires coaxing to lie down as he sits in a daze, confused.
Finally, finally, his legs make it under the covers,
And he snores immediately, but only for a little while.
You elude me while he dozes and approach as he startles awake.

Oh, Sleep! Oh, Sleep! How I long for you! How I need you!
How pleasant it would be, what a gift it would be
If only you would arrive as quickly for me as you do for him,
And if only you would stay awhile so both of us can rest.
Ah, Sleep! There you are, like a cloud of vapor enveloping me
As I drift off into a dream, a stressful dream with no restoration;
A dream with no beginning, no resolution, just confusion.
Alas, Sleep! His footsteps approach and I cannot embrace you.
He stands over me to announce his presence, "Hello? Hello?"
Oh, Sleep! Please. I am not ready for another day without you.

Hello? Is Anybody Here?

We're in the kitchen, sitting at the table. I'm on my laptop, trying to transact a little business online, and he's looking at a travel brochure. It would be inaccurate to say he's reading it. He's looking at the pictures of Alaska.

He gets up suddenly, leaves the room, and starts going down the hallway.

"Hello? Is anybody here?" he asks.

"I'm right here!" I respond, bewildered. I'm still sitting at the table. How can he turn around and forget that I'm right there?

But he doesn't hear me or doesn't comprehend what I've said. He is now farther down the hallway.

"Is anybody home?! Where did everybody go?" He sounds anxious now.

"I'm in the kitchen, honey," I reassure him. "I haven't gone anywhere," I add as I get up from the table and head for the hallway. But he is already making his way back to where I am. He seems relieved to see me. I notice that he has turned on all the lights. The outside lights, the hallway lights, the lights in all the bedrooms and bathrooms.

"Would you like me to turn on the television for you?" I suggest.

"Yes, please," he says. He heads downstairs to the Man Cave, where he likes to watch television. But only if I sit with him. He doesn't watch by himself anymore as he used to do not that long ago.

I go back upstairs for a moment to get my laptop and to turn off the lights. I come back to the Man Cave. He is watching Blue Bloods. Sort of. He has fallen asleep. But it will only be for a moment. He will doze on and off until bedtime. And then he will sleep for a little while, get up and wander around, come back to bed, sleep for a little while, get up and wander around. Eventually, I will fall asleep, too. But not for long.