Loving and Living Alzheimer’s

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 wil...

Hospital bed arrived Friday.  I cried. Discontinued all current meds and transitioned to comfort care meds only.  I cried. He refused food and water all day Saturday.  Minimal ingestion yesterday and today. He has to be moved every 2 hours, around the clock, going forward, to avoid bedsores. How are we here already?  He ate a full meal, on his own, just 4 days ago. I'm torn between hoping that this is truly how easily his suffering will end.  In disbelief that he will not have to endure all of the pain and trials that most patients face. Yet grieving that his life is coming to and end.  That, after all he has overcome in his life, he is being robbed of all the things he planned for his future.  The unfairness of it all. April 24th will be 5 years exactly, that we have traveled this road.  I have reflected on all the tough moments.  The ones that made me doubt my ability to see this through.  To keep my promise. I've come to realize that ...

Yesterday he woke happy and playful.  Giggling and dancing.  Truly in a beautifully blissful place. The morning and afternoon were effortless.  While not the Randy we all know, a version I was blessed to witness. Evening was an entirely different story.   My heart is so heavy with the transition of things.  Unfair and brutal.  Cruelty to a degree I've never seen.  Surprising because I think I've endured the worst .  Grief because I know I have not yet felt the depth of despair that is coming. Bitterness is all I feel when I watch him suffer, unable to ease his pain. He truly feared me today.  Not in the usual sense.  Not as if I was his tormentor.  More that he was not sure I provided safety and security. He was afraid of our home.  Afraid to enter his bedroom.  Afraid of the "people" his broken mind was seeing in his haven. His eyes were dark and daunting.  Roaming the hallway and kitchen.. stopping to stare into doo...

I wish I knew what goes through his mind.  All the endless hours of staring blankly into space and the shuffled pacing through the house. What is he searching for?  Where is he trying to go? I pray he has a goal or destination in mind.  To think he doesn't know, saddens me.  How terrifying that must be.  To merely exist with no known purpose. What a blessing it is that I still have the ability to make him feel safe.  It is so reminiscent of motherhood.  Soothing away the bad dreams or vanquishing the monsters under the bed. Randy is still mobile and able to get in and out of bed, with assistance.  For this reason, he stills sleeps in our bed. He is normally disoriented when he wakes, which is frequent throughout the night. Each time he wakes, he reaches for me in a panic.  I hold his hand and tell him he is ok and he settles and drifts back to peaceful slumber. It is a powerful thing to possess the ability to ease someone's pain, if only for ...