Husband's last camping trip

Husband's last camping trip

Thursday, February 28, 2013

I need a new pair of shoes!

I'm a little sad this morning.  In yesterday's post, I let my hair down.  I let my guard down.  I opened my Soul to cyberspace, AKA, the Internet.  I let readers know just how scared I have become.

Later, during the day, I thought about my post.  In some respects, I called myself a cry baby.  In other respects I called myself being brutally honest.  Hey, this is my life, whether it be sniff, sniff, boo hoo or whatever you'd want to call it, at least this blog is pure in thought, honesty and straight to the point.

While other blogs are entertaining, my blog is not.  My blog deals with the everyday life of a woman who is caring for her dying husband.  A husband too young to die.

As I was getting husband into bed last night, he asked me what was for dinner.  I told him he already had dinner.  He asked me what did he eat.  I told him.  He looked at me and said, "I don't remember eating dinner.  Are you sure I ate?"

He told me not to turn off the TV, he wanted to see the weather.  I told him the news was over with.  He insisted that they never showed the weather.  Told me to call the TV station in the morning because they forgot to show the weather.  I said I would.

He asked me what is the season we are in now.  I told him late Winter, early Spring.  He then asked me to explain what Seasons are.

The "man" is still here.  He glances at the closet a lot.  When he does, he kind of acknowledges the "man", as if to say, "I know you're there",  then will turn in bed.

While getting him into bed, I had to lift his legs.  They are so stiff.  I asked him to bend his legs.  He said, "I can't anymore".  I bent them myself.  They hardly bend anymore.

A little glimpse of what I do before going to bed each night.

Oh, how I sometimes wish my blog was more like other blogs.  I wish life were that simple for us.

Today, I wish I could walk in someone else's shoes.  I don't like the way mine are fitting lately.


  1. I wanted to comment to yeaterday's post but didn't. Your husband is like a child now. We had a different problem with my Dad. He thought the house that they lived in belonged to someone else. He kept saying they needed to get out of there before the ther people came home. He always talked about his other house. My husband would drive him by his old house to see if this was the house he remembered. He would see it and say yes and as soon as they would head back home he would not remember being there.
    Have you gotten help yet. You seriously need some help. You need someone to come stay with him while you get a couple hours a couple times a week. If you don't you will start to resent him for being so much work. You have done so well, I hate to see that happen. Please get some help. It is out there. I know you were going to and maybe you have it.
    Oh how hard this has to be for you. So sorry.

  2. I don't think your blog post yesterday was any more then keeping it real and honest. I'm pretty sure us readers don't read for entertainment, but to somehow support you as you face this awful reality. If it is any comfort, you have helped me appreciate each and every day with all the "normalness" of those I love. I can't imagine, simply can't imagine, the pain and heartache you face seeing the spouse you love so deeply slip further away. The other day I mentioned to my seminarian son that I should make a sign that says "Trust God" (as I worry all the time) and he replied, "Mom, make the sign 'God is trustworthy' instead" - then it isn't dependent on HOW I trust, but that that God simply IS trustworthy, regardless of my weaknesses to embrace that. Don't sugar coat your day. But somehow remember God is trustworthy. Virtual hugs to you.

  3. No, I don't read for entertainment at all, and I really appreciate that this is a place you can be 100% real. I echo what Debby said, "Can you get some help?" - for your sense of well being? And, I love Candis' "God is trustworthy". I know He is holding you up during this horribleness. And, I hope that your readers give you a sense that you are cared about. I hope this feels like a safe place where you are surrounded by caring people who only want the best for you.

  4. For what it's worth, I admire your transparency, which is a risk to you, but I think it's a blessing to others. We can't deny the reality of pain, sadness and death in this fallen world. In many ways it makes our hope of eternity in heaven all the brighter. Thank you for sharing your heart and keeping it real. May you feel the Lord's strength in your weakness.