Magazine Posts

I cry, in darkest night,
my wife by my side.
She's asleep.
I realize each day I am
with her, is the best
day it will ever be.
I see her fade
daily to a point
she can no longer
function by herself.
An Independent, self-reliant,
strong woman, who has lost
capability. Sadness,
a word which doesn't adequately
describe, what has happened to her.

Life's path is long,
not easy to be
moving along,
so easily.
Why try so hard,
for nothing to do,
but keep on
loving you.

It is the worst of time.
My wife is slipping away.
It is the best of time,
My wife loves me every day.

You are my life.
You are my soul.
You are my wife.
You are my all.

You have always been there.
In good times and in despair.
Through thick and thin
If I am with you, I will win.

I know it is true, said about thee.
You are the one and will always be.
No matter what others will hide,
I will always stay by your side.

The words of
"Where is my room?
"I don't know my number."
"I'm not sure why
I am here."
Questions reign supreme,
another night at the Inn.
The Inn of Unaware.

It matters not,
she doesn't know
my name,
or calls me Joe,
the name of
our oldest son
She professes her love,
every day.
Works for me
as she is happy.

Sadness abounds,
to this observer,
who sees lovely people,
at differing levels
of mental acuity.
During a life's journey,
so many stories
for one to hear
and appreciate.
So little time.

Wind, pushing softly
across meadow and tree.
Warmth of the Sun
is now refreshing me.

Go I slowly, searching,
constantly searching for thee,
to live our lives together.
It is important to me.

I was sitting with my wife in the memory care unit. She is in Advanced Vascular Dementia-Alzheimers. We have been married 65 years.
She was talking about losing her father, many years ago. She then stated to me, "I lost my husband, several years ago. He became ill and passed away. "To clarify, she doesn't know my name or that I'm her husband. She does know I take care of her and professes her love. This disease is insidious. Her memories are gone. There is no life, without memories. There is a half-life for survivors.

Have I reached
that point of anxiety,
where I am at
my level of incompentcy?

Finding, it's hard
when I cannot
work or garden
in our yard.

When evening time
has bid adieu,
at last, it came,
I am alone with you.

Many times
I fail to see,
what a loss
you are for me.

I see your smile,
in times of reverie,
knowing our past,
will never be,
the same for you
as it is for me.