The Scooter Store is coming today to fit husband for his wheel chair. I hope it's the lightweight one so I will be able to lift it in and out of the car.
For the last several days, husband has been nasty to me. I am doing pretty good with it, as I ignore him completely when he starts in on me. So far, it's working. After his last nasty remark to me yesterday, he went to bed and slept for hours. When he awoke, he had forgotten what the had said to me. That's why I ignore the remarks, because he doesn't even realize what he is saying or what he said.
Perks of the disease.
I have decided to place husband once we get moved with Tish & Jace. By then, (next summer), he will be too far gone to even know what's happening around him, or, worse, he may not even be alive. I don't know.
Sounds cold and awful, huh? Well, I am the one making all these decisions, I am the one that has to go through this and I never signed up for this. It was handed to me on a piece of paper that was stamped, "TERMINAL".
I have learned a lot about life during this journey. I have learned a lot about myself mostly. I have learned to deal with statistics. I have learned medical terms that now come naturally to me when saying the words out loud. I have learned that I am strong. I have learned to depend on myself. I don't go around crying and wringing my hands. Actually, I don't even cry anymore. I'll shed a few tears, then go on. And, it's usually when I'm praying that the tears will come. Or singing a song in church.
What's the use in crying anyway? Won't change what is to come. I hurt, a deep hurt inside my heart. It's there always. But, because I am so consumed with caring for him, I recognize it's there and go on.
I think that's the mourning kind of hurt. When you lose someone, that ache and hurt is there. Well, I've already lost my husband, only he's still here, physically.
My husband is a shell of the man he once was. His features have changed. His body has changed. A very slow and deliberate kind of change has taken place over the last 2 1/2 years.
I have a picture of husband and Jack, taken in one of those photo booths where you get 4 pictures on a strip. Jack was around age 5. I have it on my fridge. I look at it every day. Those smiles of the both of them. Jack making goofy faces in one of them. Husband making goofy faces as well. In one, they are laughing. Last night as I was looking at those pictures it hit me that husband's eyes were different back then. As I looked closer something dawned on me.
The eyes I can't stand to look at anymore had life in them.
I shall cherish those pictures for the rest of my life.