His hand is so much bigger than mine. I feel protected holding his hand, and yet I know it’s my job to protect him.
When he was first diagnosed he denied the diagnosis. I thought if only he knew it would be so much easier. I could justify the decisions I had to make, explain the things he was losing.
Since he is now aware of this awful disease, lamenting it as he explains it to neighbors and friends, I am aware that it is not easier.
He still doesn’t understand his losses. It’s heartbreaking to see him worry over the effects of a “brain disease.”
Knowledge in this case is grossly overrated.
this is our life 
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