Last night Burt, thinking I was his (need I say deceased) mother said he was getting married to a girl from Carolina. He said his wife didn’t love him; she used to but it’s died out.
Well, that did it!
After a while, I fessed up to being his wife and said I was hurt.
He backpedaled as fast as he could and wormed his way back into my heart. (Not that he was ever anywhere else.)
I am not able to handle not being recognized with the grace I would like to muster.
Burt’s Capgras (I have 5 or 7 wives he says. Isn’t that too many to deal with? No, I like it.) is maddening particularly since I am tasked with figuring out the names of all his hallucinations and superfluous wives.
It’s really an evil unpleasant disease that robs our loved ones from us – coming and going.
Interesting that in his appeal for my mercy, he mentioned an occasion in which there had been a fire only he came to realize that he imagined it. He hunted for the word hallucination to explain that episode and linked it to his imagined infidelity.
I am intrigued by how he processes matters. Hallucinations are definitely a difficult symptom. As I have said elsewhere, if I weren’t so deeply saddened by his condition, I would find them fascinating.
this is our life 