Loving and Living Alzheimer’s

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

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