Going Home

Bo awoke confused this morning.  He called me upstairs and said, “You’ll have to drive.”

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“When we go home.”

“We are home.”  I said.  “This is our bedroom.”

“It is? “  He thought for a moment,  “ I don’t understand.”

I walked him over to the balcony door and looked out.  “This is our yard.”

He sat on the bed for a few minutes then asked the question again.

“When are we going home?”  And I repeated my answers.

“Something’s wrong,”  he said.  “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

I paused, asking myself if I should say it,  then I did, “You’re losing your memory, Bo.”

“How long has that been happening?” he asked so quietly.

“A long time.”  My voice was nearly breaking.

He sat like a child on the edge of the bed  for several minutes, and then he asked it again:  “But when did we come here?”

“We’ve lived here for 35 years.  There’s your clothes closet,  and that is your bureau.”

“But we came here last night?” he asked.

“No, we didn’t go anyplace last night.  You came up early for a shower and then you read in bed before you fell asleep.”

“I don’t understand.”  He was trying  so hard to process what I said.  My heart was breaking and I was trying to think what I could say to help him.

Charlie cat was on the bed so I asked, “Do you remember Charlie?”

“Yes, but …” he paused, still sitting on the edge of the bed, his shoulders drooping.

“Maybe you need a cup of coffee,” I suggested.  “How about getting dressed and eating,  then we’ll take Emma dog out for a walk and get some fresh air.”

“OK, maybe I need that.”

I got out his clothes,  he dressed and we went downstairs for breakfast.  He greeted the dog and petted her as I cooked the eggs.

Thoughts were swirling through my head:  Will I soon not be able to leave the house?  Do I need to contact someone so I know whom to call if I need an aid with him?  Is it still safe to have him walking Emma (which he does several times a day)? How will he react if there is a stranger in the house?  Are we moving into another stage?

Being an Alzheimer’s spouse is such a lonely place.  I simply don’t know where to turn to get answers to the many questions I always have.  I wonder daily if I’m doing the right things for him.  Is there more I should be doing? There really isn’t help despite the fact that we’re told to call the Alzheimer’s Association for support.  And if you go to a support group,  everyone has someone who’s at a different stange than your spouse anyway.  What more can I do?  It’s a guessing game.

Postscript:

The day progressed well.  I had to be away several hours in the afternoon and Bo and Emma were fine.  We took a rainy walk in the nearby woods,  had dinner,  played three games of Rummicube and then rode around town looking at the Christmas lights with Emma in the car.  He didn’t go to bed until after ten.

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4 Responses to Going Home

  1. Barney Hungerford says:

    Who knows what is right and what to do. As a person standing outside, I can say any decision you make is the right one. As to getting help, yes, the time is approaching but only you can make this turn in the situation. Bo will adapt. One outfit in your area, and there are many, is called Senior Helpers. They are not medically trained just a person who comes over as a companion and gives you a controled relief. I’m returning from Orlando mid week next week. Barney

  2. greg says:

    Rides are a good thing and this time of year makes the viewing extra special.
    Remember to re-direct and re-focus his attention so that he is comfortable and in his happy place.
    Love ya,
    Greg

  3. Ine says:

    I admire your patience and tenderness with Bo. I love you for who you are and how you handle your situation. Bo is in good hands. My heart goes out to you.
    love,
    Ine

  4. Kathe Shakespeare says:

    Nancy, I so admire your kindness and tenderness with Bo. You are truly an inspiration to me!

    Merry Christmas Nancy!

    Kathe Shakespeare

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