The Tender Moments

           Even when death is expected, there is a shock to it.  The lifelessness of that shell body is surreal.  The spirit, the energy that is life, in a second gone, turns a body into a piece of hard sculpture.

           For years I have been living one day at a time because the long term thought of the daily grind of care giving to Alzheimer person would have been too depressing to take on.  My pattern of thought had a major outline that I care for John lovingly for this day, this one day. The next morning I started over.  If the day came that I would need to lift him I would give up my role and turn his care over to a team of people.  Fortunately, our years together were many and his sweetness and gentle personality stay with him to the end.  The help of a team for his care was only in the last 20 days of his life.

            There was a time about a month ago that was a particularly difficult afternoon with many accidents and clean ups.  I said to John, who found these moments confusing and distasteful, "this is no way for the two of us to live anymore".  In totally clarity he looked at me and said, "I agree".

             Ten days later, he had a slight cold and what appeared to be a tiny stroke at home at noon.  That was the beginning of a rapid and fast decline of all his systems.  He died yesterday quietly toward morning in a care facility.

              There are windows or seconds of absolute normalcy with Alzheimer individuals and all of around treasure and cling to these moments.  One day as John was recovering in the hospital from the flu, I walked into his room and a nurse and aid were busy doing their work.  John sitting up straight in his bed and said, "I love you, I love you" as I walked toward him.  A little to my surprise this clear declaration of emotion but it was nothing short of  shock to the two other women in the room.   I took his hand and told him, "I love you, also".  I knew at the second that these moments were to treasure because his health was very fragile and he probably was never coming home again.  We shared other brief tender seconds here and there but remembering his need to remind me of his love on that morning made those last few years worth it all.