Moments

Christmas is next week.  Where has the time gone? 

On the home front, we're in what I call a "holding pattern".  Husband's BP has been stable.  Memory?  All gone.  He retains nothing.  He sleeps 16-18 hours a day.  When he is awake, he sits in a somewhat stupor.  He still talks to someone, usually up in the corner of the ceiling.  It used to be every now and then.  It's daily now.  His jaw is jutted out, with his bottom lip turning outward.

Husband does not know how to use the toilet, or, for that matter, what it is doing in the bathroom.  He wants to move it away from the sink and when it won't move, he gets quite upset.

The "visitors" are coming more frequently, I've noticed.  "They" only come in the middle of the night.  I will wake up to hear husband laughing.  This laugh sounds not of this world.  It's a haunting, beautiful, Holy sound.  That's the only way to describe it.  It used to scare me.  Now, it's comforting, knowing "someone" is there.

And me?  I'm doing fine.  I am looking forward to Christmas.  I've bought husband gifts.  He will have a nice Christmas.  I am determined to be happy and not become bitter.  I think I"m doing an OK job of that.

I have come a long way since diagnosis 4 1/2 years ago.  I've grown.  I've changed so much.  I take it as it comes now.  Some days I wake up and look at husband still breathing and ask God, why?  Other days, I see him still breathing and thank God for another day.  It's like that.

Husband wants me to start reading him the Bible.  When he wakes up this afternoon, I will read him passages from the Bible.  I hope he likes that.

It's bitter cold now.  I try to keep a fire in the fireplace when husband is on the couch.  He tells me he likes that. 

I love making him smile.  When he smiles, I know I've made an impact on him.  I've made a connection with him. 

It's those very few precious moments that I will cherish.