I’m sitting on the bottom step in our hallway, the dog lying with her head on my feet. Bo is in the living room on the sofa, haunched over, straining to find an elusive idea that he can’t bring out.
I’m exhausted. Exhausted from trying to convince him that he has nothing he must do– no one to contact tonight or tomorrow. I’m exhausted from “entertaining” him by driving around, eating out. Exhausted from trying to explain why the front and back yards are torn up and re-seeded and why he can’t pick up the dried grass that the lawn guys spread over the seeds. And just exhausted from having to explain and explain.
I discovered that we needed a new sprinkler to keep the grass seed damp so I took Bo and Emma to the hardware store to get one. When we pulled up (to one of Bo’s favorite hardware stores), he asked if we were going to eat dinner there.
“No, we can’t eat here. This is a hardware store.”
“I didn’t know that, “ he said.
Yesterday we took Charlie cat to the veterinarian for his shots. When we were getting out, Bo picked up two letters I needed to mail and asked if we would mail them there. I explained that this was the vet’s and you don’t mail letters there.
“I didn’t know that,” he said.
Tonight at the hardware store he said something completely nonsensical about being from the United States and “not worrying about that.” It was in reference to the sprinkler the salesman was explaining to me. I managed to change the subject and walk away.
Bo has always been friendly. He talks to people all the time. Now he says to almost everyone he sees, “Are you having fun today?” I always go on alert at this point, wondering what he will say next and if I’ll need to intercede.
In the last few months, he seems to be losing perception. If I say the tomatoes are delicious, he looks at his plate containing chicken, potatoes, corn and tomatoes, and doesn’t know which is the tomatoes. He has put mayonnaise on his corn-on-the-cob and butter on his salad; orange juice on his cheerios and in his coffee. He even asked me one night if the ice cream was my invention. When I explained that we buy all of our ice cream, he said, “I didn’t know that.”
As I write this, he’s now upstairs getting ready for bed, still fretting about tomorrow. Will he need things to eat? he calls down. “For what?” I respond. He just stands at the top of the steps, unable to explain.
Oh, Nancy– I am so sorry. You and Bo are in my thoughts and prayers. Do you have any one to give you a break? Perhaps you and I and Debbie could have lunch or a cup of coffee?
Let me know if there’s any time ..
Know that you are doing a great job and making the best of this situation. I love reading your posts. Hang in there everything in life is temporary.
Nancy, Thanks for your posts for your many close friends that deeply care about you. I’m so sorry for all you both are going through. I wish I lived closer to give more support.
Nancy, I like your posts. In your march post I admired your believes: “Maybe I learned something from this. If I had turned on the lights and tried to bring him back to the present, I probably would have only confused and upset him.”
Take a lunch with Kathe and Debbie.
What would be the support for you?
Bob and I think of you guys often and our hearts go out to you both. Can only imagine the patience and understanding you have to have everyday. I hope you are able to get a break and have some time to yourself. We will keep you in our thoughts and prayers.
Good night to play cards!! See you later.
I’ll see you Monday…..will touch base before I come to Haddonfield….xo, dianne
Nancy
It is heartbreaking to read your posts. I know how exhausted you must be. My Mom is becoming more of a handful for us at 90, but at least we have each other to rely on. You must bear this all alone and so life is not fun anymore. You are strong, however, and just know you are doing the very best you can for Bo right now. You are in my prayers, as is Bo.
Cheryl