Saturday, April 28, 2018

Finding a new me...wooo hooo...who is she now?

It has been a year now since your passing and it will always leave a void in my heart, a blank space in my soul.  I read over my memories of  your last days and weep but it is getting easier.  And I have come to realize that I really was feeling the loss of you years ago when Alzheimer's began its claim on you and our life together.  And I was grieving long before your passing.  In this new community of retirees I watch with compassion as I witness other wives caring for husbands no longer remembering what they had for lunch.  I know what it is like to hang on to the last threads of your partner as their memory fades.  I still lose my composure when the band plays "Can I have this dance for the rest of my life?"  It was our song and we danced to it time and time again. 

So I have filled my life with writing and activism serving as vice president of our newly formed Residents Council , a sounding board for residents and liaison with management.   I hang out with family when they are available, play cards, go out to eat, go to water aerobics, plan trips, shop online and go to doctor appointments but the longing is till there.  I try to fill it with TV and Facebook, poor numbing substitutes. 

And now a new dilemma...a man has stepped into my life, a man who describes himself as a tall, dark and handsome who can drive at night and in the rain, a definite plus with old ladies.  And he has a sense of humor, a huge hook for me as laughs are a premium asset to any friendship in my book.  I'm terrified!  Not of him, he has been nothing but kind and cautious but this new awareness of how desperately lonely and vulnerable I am is frightening.  I don't know if I can trust my judgment on anything but I do know that now for the first time in a long time I am capable of pure joy, laughter and a sensuality that was long forgotten.  And I am enjoying it.  Wow!  Who woulda thunk! 

Damn Alzheimer's!  It takes such a toll on the caregiver as well as the patient.  We lose parts of ourselves without even knowing it.  I am damn lucky to be rediscovering some.