Baby, it's cold outside

I heard on the news last night we were going to have our first winter storm of the season. Wind, snow and rain. I woke up this morning to wind and rain. So far, no snow. As long as I don't have to go out in it, I'm OK. Problem is, I promised Jack he could take the car to the movies, then, go to his friends house util 10:00 tonight. If it snows, I can't let him go. He doesn't know how to drive in the snow. Actually, it's not him I'm worried about. It's the other drivers.

Here in the Land of Enchantment, (or, as I like to call it, the Land of Entrapment), when the weather man advises you to stay home, the crazies decide to see how fast and how far they can go without crashing. I have driven in this snow and ice. It's not fun. These people scare me. They have no sense. Even in the best of weather, they still scare me. Let's hope we have no snow, or, that the wet streets don't freeze tonight. That's always fun.

Other than that, not too much happening here. Husband seems OK, for the most part. I have noticed though that his memory is not there anymore. He used to only have spells where his memory would fade. But, this week, I've noticed it's always faded. There's always a memory lapse.

This past week, I have reminded him of things throughout the day. It didn't used to be this way. Everytime he does something that is new, I think back to my year of research on his disease and remember reading about a certain symptom, then, watching it happen to husband before my very eyes. It always makes me catch my breath.

This disease is tricky. Everyone is different, but the same. Sounds crazy, but true. I don't know how else to explain it. They all go through the same things as the brain shuts down, but, at different intervals.

On some of my worst days with husband, I often wish he had cancer. That way, there would be a chance at survival. We would treat the cancer. We would have hope. With Frontal Lobe Dementia, there is no cure, there is no hope. Also, with his rare condition, (running on his mothers' side of the family, striking at a relative young age, with a 3 year life expectancy), makes it all the worse. We don't know when he will die. All we can do is look at the family history. All died by their 47th year. Husband is 46. Not good.

I sound so dark, so depressing. I'm not usually this way. But, there are some days I think about the odds against husband. Some days when I wake up, I look at my husband sleeping, thinking back to happier times. Times on saturday mornings where we would go as a family, somewhere, anywhere.

And I wonder, where did it all go?