Burt had always seemed to be a “scaredy cat.” As his dementia progressed, he was fearful of the many dogs in our building. He would shoo them and then regret his rudeness and make his peace with their owners. He worried loudly when he participated in his PT or when we moved him in his bed.
Burt was prone to panic attacks all his life he’d told me when we met. At one early moment in our relationship, I was panicked by his panic attacks; I split up with him. It was my good fortune that we found our way back to each other.
When I first knew him, he had overcome his terror of subway travel.
We had to be in the first car so he could gauge the signals; if it looked ominous, we stepped onto the platform and addressed his concern to the driver.
On one occasion, forced into the third car because we were with friends, his discomfort was visible and palpable.
Over the ensuing years, we took many a train ride, by subway, by Amtrak and MetroNorth. Burt seemed to revel in the challenge of facing his fears.
My love was always conquering his fears. We lived in a whirlwind in which he was confronting and embracing his terrors headlong. We also lived with lots of joy and enjoyment.
In the end, I came to realize, it was his bravery that I had always admired.
this is our life 