Burden / Blessing
My burden, as it were, is lifted. Burt has passed and I am relieved of caregiving. I have the blessings of memory. Good memories, mostly, from a good long-short marriage, from a friendship that enriched my life; good memories from years of doing-together; and, yes, good memories from nearly five years of caregiving, of tending to what needed to be done.
My burden now is proceeding alone without Burt; with just the memories of who he was for all those years of our life together; of who we were, individually and conjointly.
My burden and my blessing is the new path I have to forge in which his presence is an absence.
Pity / The Inevitable Change
When Burt was suffering what proved to be his last decline, I cautioned myself to avoid feeling pity. I knew it would diminish him. It was disrespectful. He was a full-throttle person. He had lived big even in these small circumstances. If I loved him I would honor who he was and not pity him.
I could absolutely feel sad, be sorry for the state-of-play his dementia brought. That was not pity. It was the acknowledgment of where we were. This is what’s happened, we’ve come to a sorrowful point and I am sad that we share this reality. I accept it. I do not feel pity. My sadness doesn’t make you smaller.
Dementia is a fast-moving ugly storm. It destroys our equanimity and forces us to adjust. It makes us strong and courageous. Burt showed nothing but courage. That’s to be praised not pitied. That’s how we accept the inevitable change.
this is our life 