Nag, Nag, Nag

It's Sunday. Church. We have gray skies, it's cold outside. I wish it would rain. I love the rain. The wind will probably come back up and blow the clouds away, giving rain to someplace else in the country. The sound of rain soothes me. Mixed in with a little lightening and thunder, the perfect recipe for watching an old movie with a hot cup of espresso. Yes, I love the rain.

Husband had a so so day yesterday. Tried to "help" me change the sheets on the bed. That didn't work out so well. His movements are very slow, as well as responses. I finally suggested he sit in the living room and relax. He was not pleased about that.

My husband, along with other Alzheimer's patients, think they are still "normal". He does know he has a "little trouble walking", but, they think they are fine. "I'm fine", he will say. Of course, we all know different, but it would be horrible of me to tell him, "No, you're not fine." So, what do you do? Why, you put on your acting gear, smile and go with it.

Husband spent the day on the bed. Came out for water or to ask me a question. Slept some. He would come into the living room, no walker, no wheelchair. I would ask him why he was not using either, he would look at me, blank stare, mumble something, turn around and attempt to walk back down the hallway. I would get ahead of him, get him into the wheelchair, take him back to the bedroom. This happened about 6-8 times yesterday. He told me that I nag too much. As I was wheeling him back to the bedroom. I chuckled. He heard me, said it was not meant to be funny, he meant it. Ok, I said, sorry to nag. He was satisfied with that answer.

I miss a lot of my old life, the other one, the one that was normal. There is a lot to miss. When I hear of other people's lives, how busy they are, doing projects around the house, going out to eat, taking drives, etc,. I can honestly say, I get a twinge. Jealousy? Envy? I don't know. God doesn't want us to be envious or have a jealous heart, but it's a twinge of something all the same. I think it's a twinge of having lost something, something you can never get back.

One of the things I miss is talking with husband. We used to have the best talks. We would talk about anything and everything. Now, when we talk, it's all one sided, with him nodding occasionally, looking like he is understanding, but, in reality, I might as well be talking to a wall. I have had to train myself to not discuss things with him anymore. It's a hard adjustment.

I crave adult conversation. I find myself talking to myself these days. And, yes, I do answer!!