Lost

I feel like this is the most accurate description of our journey, at this point.  

Lost..

Random items.  Currently, his wallet.  As usual, it’s my fault.  Accusations of my thievery, pouting and then the silent treatment…I might not mind the silent part. (Located the wallet, at Pop’s, under the bed.  Logical place for it.)

Lost..

His ability to ask a question and remember he asked the question by the time it is answered.  His short term memory is almost non-existent.  God forbid his question prompts a question on the recipients part.  Abbott and Costello would appreciate the “who’s on first” exchange this prompts.

Lost..

His understanding of how to operate simple household appliances and electronics.  He can no longer use the washer, the dishwasher, the coffeemaker, the microwave and, at times, the tv remote.  It is truly painful to watch him struggle to help with these mundane tasks.

Lost..

His concept of time.  Time on a clock.  Time passing.  Days of the week, month or year.  Events, birthdays, anniversaries, holidays.  They hold no significance for him anymore.  One day just blends into the next, as his boredom increases.

Lost..

My ability to comprehend 80% of what he tries to tell me.  Every sentence has become word salad.  “I want that stuff from the place, with the thing and that guy, that time”.  Every conversation is a painful exchange, followed by his anger.  Anger because he believes I pretend he doesn’t make sense.  

Lost..

My desire to come home to whatever fresh new Hell awaits.  Each day is a crap shoot.  Will he be manic with excitement to see my face or will he launch into a tirade over something he thinks I’ve taken from him or something I haven’t allowed him to do.

I am lost in a world where I am trying to keep him happy and safe while I survive being his comfort person one moment and the bad guy, the next.

He is lost in a bizarre alternate universe that his dying brain has created.  A place where his independence is gone.  Where confusion at every turn surely must consume him with fear.

My job is to calm that fear.  To soothe his restless mind.  To keep him loved and cared for as this ugly disease continues to move him one step closer to a world where he is lost to us all, but in our sweet memories.

I am not an overly spiritual person but am reminded of one of Randy’s favorite hymns, Amazing Grace.  “I once was lost but now am found..”

By God’s Amazing Grace, my dear…

Cheers 💜!