Posts

Blooming

4 months and 12 days... Blogging doesn't come easy.  I have plenty to share but struggle to find the relevance to Him... his journey.  How, in such a short period of time has my world become not connected to the "us" that once was? I suppose the answer is healing.  Continuing to live and move on to the next chapter.  The chapter that will be mine to explore, nurture and develop. It is the natural way of things.  We love, we lose and we move on. One day, that twinge of guilt will subside.  We are not designed to remain in a state of sorrow and despair after tragedy strikes.  We are meant to live.  To learn from it. I've read of people in my position who simply cannot work fully through the loss, by no fault of their own. Who never find love again.  Who are so changed by their Alzheimer's journey that while they continue to live, they do so as a party of one. No judgement here.  Rebuilding after such tremendous loss is scary.  It's hard.  It can be sad.  But ...

Rainbows and Angels

83 days without him. I'm beginning to travel again.  Traveling to places he loved.  Places he always wanted to go. The guilt has lessened as I purposefully take a moment to picture his face in my mind and silently ask him if he is pleased with my new path.  And, to thank him for taking such good care of me, affording me the ability to live this life. I spent a week in North Carolina with my Daughter, Son-in-Love and two glorious granddaughters (6 and 3/12).   Randy's last visit was over 2 years ago and he was on cloud 9 with his girls.  Thankfully we were able to FaceTime during the final 24 months of his life.  Because of this, his girls knew him.. remember him. In the final moments of Randy's passing, we were experiencing a rainstorm.  As he released his last breath, the rain subsided and the most extraordinary double rainbow appeared over our home.  His message that he was ok.  (FYI...the day we wed it was raining and as we arrived at the church, the rain cleared and gav

Starting Over

He has been gone 56 days. Such a short period of time.  Feels like an eternity some days. Being his widow brings a morphed form of guilt.   Guilt because I'm living my best life... without him.  It feels like yet another betrayal.  The depths of the unfairness are almost staggering at times. But others... I'm Free. I'm doing what I want, when I want with who I want.  Not answering to anyone.  I'm changing the house, my car, myself.  I've begun a new career.  I'm a girl again.  Not his caretaker or his mother.  Simply a girl.  I've got trips planned.  Trips that he would have loved.  Trips he'll never get to take.  I've used the term "Bittersweet" on more than one occasion and each time it hits just a little bit differently. This is what he wanted.  What we talked about.  We knew I would have to build a new life after he departed.   And I am doing it!  I'm all in!  I'm the happiest I've been in more years than I can count.  There

Martyrs

No matter what a person goes through or how old they get, it never ceases to amaze me how many still live their lives in a high school drama holding pattern. I suppose, for some, it is easier to play the victim rather than owning their shortcomings. I've spent the last 5 years caring for my husband.  Living the beauty and tragedy of it all.  Trying to give him the best final years of his life. The last 12 months I had gone so far as to announce publicly that those who wanted to see Randy were welcome....on more than one occasion.  Our door was always open.  Even apologizing for my social withdrawal if it had made anyone feel unwelcome.   Only to learn (once again) that some people, you will never please. To learn that a few life long friends were hurt and even offended to not be given an invitation to the PRIVATE burial. (A privilege granted to those who made his last days better.) The same friends who couldn't be bothered to come and surround Randy with the love and friendship

Moments

 28 days.... He has been gone 28 days and I don't know how I feel.  Don't know how I  should be feeling. Widowed... Can't begin to wrap my brain around what this means, What this is,  What this says about me. I've been grieving for well over 3 years.  Grieving as the love I married drifted away and was replaced by a love requiring maternal protection. I have moments.  Moments where his absence brings me sadness.  Where his empty side of the bed provokes anger.  Where I plan for a future he never gets to see and the weight of how wrong that is almost swallows me. And I feel guilt.   Because I am eager to begin my future.  Because I am excited about what I see in front of me. Guilt because I get to pursue a happy life while he had to lose his. It is in these moments I have to remind myself how lucky  Randy and I were to have been afforded the opportunity to discuss what was coming, what he wished for... and how desperately he wanted me to find happiness again. What an ama

Farewell

4AM on the eve of the day we will put Randy to rest next to his Mother. I am still in shock that we are here. That he is gone from our lives.   From this world. It is so wrong. In the span of 6 days, we went from believing we had 12 months, to a couple of weeks, to a few hours. Did we say goodbye enough?  Did he feel the love that surrounded him as he left this world? I pray his Mother's face was the first beautiful sight he saw as he entered those pearly gates. While these things plague my mind, I am grateful that his passing was peaceful. Randy never felt pain or physical illness.  He was happy and playful in the days leading up to his final journey home. He was spared what would have been the most excruciating part of this disease, only spending 6 days of his beautiful life in a hospital bed. He was a truly amazing man.  Kind and loving.  No one who ever met him didn't fall in love with his zest for life and that exuberant smile. I am better for knowing and loving him.  Bett

Letting Go

Randy left this earth peacefully yesterday, March 29th, 2023 surrounded by love. I'm plagued with anger that the life of someone so wonderful ended so tragically.  And for nothing. He deserved so much more than this life afforded him. 5 years of tears, sorrow, joy and memories on his Alzheimer's journey.  5 years of being solely responsible for this person.  5 years of truly believing that no one else was capable of taking care of this man in the manner he deserved. Allowing his body to be removed from his home.. from my care... was one of the most difficult surrenders I have ever endured. Letting go is hard. But it can also be the most beautiful thing. I was blessed to have been able to fulfill his wish to remain home.   Blessed to have been cheek to cheek with this man when his last breath left his body.  To feel the very last beat of his heart on my fingertips. Blessed to have spent the last 19 years of his beautiful life with him. Honored to know that we will lay him to res