Safe

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 fleeting moments.

During his daily journeys through the house, he states he is ready to leave or wanting to go home.  And each time, I gently remind him that he is home. 

 I speak of all he did and how hard he worked to provide us with this home. 

I take him down memory lane, showing him photos of him, us, our children, our friends.

This belongs to him... his safe haven.

His worried expression softens, his mind settles and he continues carelessly about his day.

Until the next episode of disorientation, where the process is repeated.

It is truly bizarre to me that this horrible uninvited disease provides me with insight and education.  Possibly preparing me to handle life differently in the future?  

I would never choose to travel this particular part of the road again however, I hope I am a better human for it.

Life presents us all with hardships, sadness, uncertainty and death.  I've often thought that in those moments, kindness and empathy would be best.

I see things differently now.

Safety is the greatest gift I feel we can provide to one another.

We can't erase the pain or struggles, the torments that one may endure.  Can't erase the regrets or losses, shortcomings or broken pieces that need healing.

But, we can offer safety.  

A safe place for others to land as they navigate whatever road they may be on.  A safe place to feel and mourn and process.

For him, drawing him away from the "lost" his mind has created, back to the reality that he is exactly where he belongs.

Safe.

Cheers💜