Burt is in the line of fire as Lewy takes more and more of his self. I feel for his losses as I do for my own. He spoke of himself in the third person today. “Does Burt know?,” he asked.
I don’t understand so much of what he utters these days, but I heard that astonishing bit clearly.
While he suffers in silent confusion or more often in chatty confusion, I also worry at my being collateral damage. It is a disease built for two, an ill-fitted rickety bicycle of symptoms and losses.
I am losing, too. Not just my lover, my partner, my helpmate, my companion… need I go on listing the who of it all?
I am also losing my quality of life. I no longer do many things that gave me (us) pleasure. I do not go to the theater to enjoy ballet or music or drama. I miss that, but am not eager to revisit that part of our past life. I am simply wistful.
It is the company of friends I seek now. Conversation, even if it is chit-chat, has acquired a mythic value. I feel the existential need to connect to that part of my life. This is the me-time I mean to pursue.
this is our life 