Whilst it is true, in our case, that the distressing conditions under which Jim and I live, utterly require love (on both our parts), it equally is true ... that our love for one another is not enough.
I cannot begin to communicate the extreme frustration and devastating sadness of caring for and living with a beloved beset by dementia. I don't care who you are or how patient you are or how devoted you are -- there is no getting through this sans unfortunate episodes of yelling cursing jumping up and down and browbeating (of one's self).
I cannot begin to communicate the extreme frustration and devastating sadness of caring for and living with a beloved beset by dementia. I don't care who you are or how patient you are or how devoted you are -- there is no getting through this sans unfortunate episodes of yelling cursing jumping up and down and browbeating (of one's self).
Love, the truest of long-term love/adoration will get you through serious marital discord, but the sort of love required to live with dementia is a rare and benighted gift of the damned if you do and damned if you don't variety.
The love that walks hand in hand with you alongside dementia is an obsessive, devoted, greedy love that lusts for the beloved yet living, yet lost.
What Jim and I share now is something beyond love; something more elemental, more desperate, more exquisitely awful.
We are all here -- we expect little, but are glad to know you, and grateful for air and sunshine. For you.
ReplyDeleteYour ceaseless love for Jim is magnificent.
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