We’ve talked about love during caregiving, but I have not been forthright about sex. We don’t talk about that in polite society as my mother would assert. Let’s be honest, LBD destroys intimacy. A visiting carer who came by to see Burt was not circumspect. She suggested I should connect with someone in circumstances like my own. “It’s not cheating,” […]
Love and marriage
Among all the losses when you’re a carer is losing the person who took care of you. I feel that intensely in my loss of Burt.
He arranged for me – from making appointments to planning outings and adventures.
Things are different when I have to fend for myself. I always talk about how grateful I am for the time I had with Burt, what a privilege it was to provide care during the journey. It’s also true that I have regrets. There’s sadness.
These musings are due, at least in part, to my being on my own and preparing for my last days.
For instance, I realize I don’t want to end my days in a hospital bed. I also am so sorry that Burt did. His end days were anything but ideal. Burt lost so much more from the dementia than I did. The toll on him was unique and hard for me to gauge. Burt lost his tether to reality; there were times he understood he was losing his mind; yet he mostly kept his sense of humor. Dementia took his agency, his mental acuity, his agility, but he held on to a lot of his joy.
We did the best we could. Hell, he did the best he could.
this is our life 