Memory fades. Not just yours, my dear which was strangely altered and crippled by the dementia with which you suffered. Everyone’s. It, like the hearing of which couples complain, can be selective. Or just inaccurate. It was a gift to me when you recounted so much of your life story to me. Some of itContinue reading “Your story”
Tag Archives: memories
Going to the movies
It seems that Burt and I, having gone on our first date and with our second one scheduled for the Sunday, saw Pretty Woman on Saturday night, separately and at different movie theaters. I saw it with my friend M. Burt, as I recall went on his own. This memory of our early history cameContinue reading “Going to the movies”
Grief, grieving
Is it possible to turn grief into grievance? I accept that grieving has no timeline; I don’t want to shoo my grief away. In a way, it’s my grief that honors Burt. So what am I talking about? Is it the sense that long term grief is a kind of wallowing? Yes, that is partContinue reading “Grief, grieving”
We used to….
Times Square was often our jumping off point to nearby theaters, like, but not limited to, the Hayes below. My weekend took me to this part of the world where so many of the paths I took were filled with memories. Every memory came quickly to my attention, and then gave me a long momentContinue reading “We used to….”
Burt’s hands
When we were younger, Burt’s hand clasped firmly over mine was a source of pleasant comfort. My hands are small; when we were holding hands, Burt’s hand enveloped mine. Holding hands is a way that those in love signal belonging. Over these last years we spent together, I truly admired his hands. Burt had long,Continue reading “Burt’s hands”
Reminiscence
Sitting at dinner, we exchange remembrances of those we’ve lost. We find some comfort as we speak. I remember my mom. As we keep talking, I miss my cousin and her amazing sense of humor. “She was,” I say, “the funniest person I ever knew.” I speak of Burt, my friend talks of her mother.Continue reading “Reminiscence”
Going where we used to go
There is a reassurance in being bathed in happy memories. And, kind of, adding to them as I do with good friends. Here’s our beloved East Village, dinner was at Ukranian East Village Restaurant. Last night, I enjoyed a dinner (and reminiscences) with my good friend D.
Blame takes a turn
While I’m on the subject, I realize that I can not only blame Burt for his illness. I can pin his death on him, too. He got sick. I adjusted. It was hard. It felt like a different kind of leaving every day. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Burt died. He left me. ThatContinue reading “Blame takes a turn”
Blame
The subject of blame is proving an inspiration of sorts. I know that blaming Burt for his illness is [was] ridiculous. I also know that it was not an absurd reaction. I bet that if your spouse received a dementia diagnosis, you might be angry. Not just at the diagnosis but also at him/her. IContinue reading “Blame”
Blameless
Burt, due to his diagnosis, has been blameless. Lewy comes with a pass and Lewy was with us for the past five years. Leave it to me to feel that there is significance in my faulting him for the soap dishes. I had allowed for the normal irritation at a spouse who made an errantContinue reading “Blameless”
this is our life 