My Love's Loves

Jesus

Black Coffee

Dark Chocolate

Dark Chocolate with Black Coffee

Irish Proverbs

The Quiet Man

John Wayne

James Bond Movies with Sean Connery or Pierce Brosnan

Sean Connery

Pierce Brosnan

NCIS

Mark Harmon

Tracy and Hepburn Movies

Katharine Hepburn

Going to the Movies

Movie Style Popcorn with Extra Butter

Black Coffee

Dark Chocolate

Dark Chocolate with Black Coffee

Music

Teaching Music

Singing

Playing the Piano

Marilyn Horne

Beverly Sills

Christmas

Cooking

Making Her Lasagna and Pumpkin Dump Dessert for Christmas

Easter

Making Easter Baskets for her Kids and Grandkids

Her Fried Chicken

Her Homemade Biscuits (made from scratch)

Her Kielbasa Dish - Fried with Potatoes and Onions

Making Her Special Deep Dark Chocolate Cake (from scratch) For Birthdays For Her Kids and Grandkids

Whoppers (no cheese, heavy onion, heavy pickle) Large Fries and Large Sprite

Taking a Big Drink From the Large Sprite and Belching Magnificently

Papa John's Pizza (thin crust, the works)

Szechuan Chinese Food

Flour Tortillas Rolled with Butter and Cinnamon Sugar

Bacon and Eggs (thick sliced bacon, eggs over medium)

Watermelon

Baileys Irish Cream

Black Coffee

Dark Chocolate

Dark Chocolate with Black Coffee

African Violets

Daisies

Her Roses

Her Outside Flower Baskets

Caring for Her House Plants

Talking to Her House Plants

Singing to Her House Plants

Crocheting

Crossword Puzzles

Word Games

Playing Video Games with Her Kids

Crafts of All Kinds

Learning

Making Lesson Plans for Her Class

Making Learning Fun for Her Class

Teaching Her Kindergarteners How to Blow Bubbles with Bubble Gum

Teaching Her Kindergarteners Vowels by Forming a Conga Line (a-e-i-o-u-UH!)

Taking Her Kindergarteners Outside on the First Day it Snowed

Every Student She Ever Had in One of Her Classes

Black Coffee

Dark Chocolate

Dark Chocolate with Black Coffee

Her Red Impala ("I look good in my car.")

Rocking Chairs (ones that have a good "creak")

Rocking Her Grandbabies in Her Rocking Chair With the Good Creak

Arranging For Group Photos of Her Grandchildren

Laughing

Her Friends

Her Parents

Her Sisters and Brother

My Family

Her Grandchildren

Her Sons-in-Law

Her Children

Black Coffee

Dark Chocolate

Dark Chocolate with Black Coffee

Jafra Skin Care Products

Vanilla Fields Perfume

Our Anniversary

The Emerald Green Satin Lounging Pajamas I Gave Her One Christmas

Having Me Rub Her Feet

Leaving Me Love Notes So I Could Find Them Later

Me

What Difference Does It Make?

I'm a neat freak. I've been this way as long as I can remember. When I was a teenager my bedroom was always tidy. I made my bed before school, my clean clothes were folded and put away in my dresser, my shirts and trousers were on hangers in my closet. Dirty clothes were put away in the hamper, never tossed on the floor. It was something Mona had to get used to when we got married but we worked it out. She's a fantastic cook and so our arrangement was simple. She did the cooking and I did the dishes. Even if we'd been out late, when we got home I'd start cleaning the kitchen. She'd tell me to turn off the water and leave the dishes in the sink, noting that they'd still be there in the morning. I'd counter by telling her I'd be along soon, although I admit she did have effective ways of encouraging me to come to bed with her. For this illustration that's beside the point.

Today, if you come by my place you'll see what I mean. It has two levels. The living room, dining room, kitchen and a half bath are upstairs; the bedrooms and a full bath are downstairs. It's all dusted and vacuumed, the beds are made, the closets are in order, the dishes are done, the stove is cleaned and the counters are cleared. The pictures are arranged in orderly fashion on the walls and my books are displayed on the bookshelves using my own special system.

The downstairs bathroom is disgusting.

I'm sure I haven't cleaned it in at least eight months. Last week I was in the shower and noticed black mold on the tiles where the shower curtain had stuck to it. There's some kind of green fungus growing on the inside of the shower curtain liner. Two days ago when I stepped on the bathroom scale I had to dismount and get a tissue to wipe the crud from the digital display before I could read my weight. There are dust bunnies and spider webs all around the floorboards, the bath mats have turned brownish grey in color and the trash basket is overflowing. My toothbrush holder is covered with unidentified white stuff and there's a grayish growth on the edge of the tub, outlining the bottles of shampoo and conditioner. Don't ask about the toilet.

I was thinking about that tonight while I was with some friends. We were talking about how God wants to be involved in every aspect of our lives - and how he wants us to be successful and accomplished in every aspect of our lives. I realized that for months and months (and months and months) whenever I'd thought about my downstairs bathroom I'd been saying to myself, "What difference does it make? I'm the only one who sees it." The longer I felt that way, the dirtier that bathroom became, the harder it was for me to get around to cleaning it.

That can be what it's like for the caregiver of a loved one with dementia. There are so many things that only we can see -- fear, anger, fatigue, depression, hopelessness, overwhelming sadness. It's easy to think we'll always have these emotions, that there's nothing we can do about them. We're the only ones who can see them so what difference does it make?

I've cared for my wife for ten years and during that time I've learned there are many things I can't control. But there are things I can control. I can control my health, what I eat, how much I exercise. I can choose who I socialize with. And I can choose gratitude.

I always thought Mona and I would be that cute little couple holding hands in the park, married seventy years. It doesn't look like we're going to make that but we've been married 42 years and we've been together 45 years and I'll always be grateful for that time. I have wonderful family and friends, a terrific church, and I attend fabulous support groups offered by Wyoming Dementia Care that connect me with others who speak the caregiver language.

Look around and see those things you can control, even if you're the only one who sees them. Choose to take care of yourself. Choose to surround yourself with supportive family and friends. Choose to spend time with those who speak the caregiver language. And above all, choose to be grateful.

That's what difference it makes.

(It took about an hour for me to clean that downstairs bathroom. I hadn't realized until I cleaned away the grime, that the metal plate behind the shower faucet actually read "hot" and "cold". The shower curtain liner was beyond hope; I tossed it in the trash and bought a new one.)

Because I Love You

It's been two years since Mona went into the nursing home. At times it seems like yesterday and at others it seems like forever. She could still function to a certain extent back then, to the point that during her first few days in Life Care Center some staff members mistook her for a fellow employee. Now, every day seems to present new struggles. She no longer recognizes our daughters and though she recognizes me most of the time, she's forgotten my name. One day last week when I walked up to her she smiled at me and said, "Oh, you're my tall man." And she needs help with nearly everything: eating, getting dressed, bathing, using the bathroom.

It's easy for me to focus only on those things she no longer can do for herself but I try to find things we can still do together. Sometimes when we're alone in her room or in the lounge of the Alzheimer's unit I'll play some music on my phone and we'll slow dance together. One of my favorites is a song the Dave Clark 5 recorded back in the 1960s.

It's right that I should care about you
And try to make you happy when you're blue
It's right, it's right to feel the way I do
Because, because I love you

I don't ever recall asking God why this happened to us, why this happened to her. But there have been times I've wondered why she has to struggle so. There have been times I've wondered why she's slipping away so slowly. And honestly, there have been times I've wondered why she's still here. 

About a month ago I was walking in a back hallway at Life Care Center, on my way to see Mona. As I got to the nurses' station outside the Alzheimer's unit there were two nurses talking. When they looked up and saw me they both smiled.

"Oh, this is so funny," one of them said. "We were just talking about you and how much you love your wife."

I was surprised. I didn't remember seeing either of them before.

"That's right," the other one said. "We've seen you dancing with her."

Give me one kiss and I'll be happy
Just, just to be with you
Give me, give me a chance to be near you
Because, because I love you