Wept today

Bhopper

I was caught off guard today after getting off early hoping for a good weekend together myDW spent the morning with her sister. I stopped at grocery picked up the stuff for her new favorite pork chop stew got it started just bet they got back to the house. This week has been a week of new loss but she’s been in a pretty good mood most of it as I got her settled to hopefully watch a movie we together. I have not cried in 3 years would not allow myself to get to that point. As she drifted off to sleep my awareness of he lack of our life just crashed in at caught me off guard. I so much miss my best friend

David J

Bhopper, you are entitled to cry.  This disease eats away at its victims (the PWD and the caregivers too) until the pain is too much. Crying can be cathartic, giving a relief and release of pent up emotions that if internalized can kill you. Whatever helps, man.

Ed1937

It's been 3 years for us too. And when you think about all that has been taken away from both of you, it's easy enough to understand how it could cause you to cry. I'm sorry that we all have to deal with the losses. But at least we have a good forum where we can let it all out. Hang in there.

jfkoc

It just comes out of the blue an smacks you in the face....the enormous loss.

Joe C.

Bhopper, I remember when I finally started being honest with family members & friends about what was happening to DW, I cried with every one of those conversations. I guess telling others made it more real for me.

Jeff86

If there’s anything that can make a grown man cry, it’s the devastating losses of AD.  Sometimes it stares you in the face, sometimes it sneaks up on you.

I miss my wife, my best friend, too.  Terribly.  My heart goes out to you.

Cynbar

This feeling hit me today too. Facebook called up a memory from 4 years ago, it was DH dancing at a wedding with his sister and niece (the bride.) He was already diagnosed but just looked so happy and engaged, so much better than he does now. He was dressed in a nice suit, talking and laughing. Now, he has trouble walking, wears sweats most of the time, usuaully doesn't know who I am, and certainly can't laugh or dance. This disease is just awful. The losses are heartbreaking. He won't be able to attend any more family events, hasn't for some time. The only way I manage to handle this is take it one day at a time, and try not to spend too much time on the bigger picture, but sometimes it just hits me like an avalanche. Thank goodness for this forum where everyone understands.

Lorita

And, you never know when it will happen or what will cause it - a sound, a thought, a picture, something on TV.   It doesn't end when you lose them either.

 So sorry, Bhopper, we've all been there so we can empathize.  Take it one day at a time and cherish each moment you have.

Bhopper

Thank You all this is such a great resource! I truly hope all that participate and contribute benefit as I do. It really does allow me to take on each new challenge with the best possible outlook. Thank You Friends again!!

Lills

My DH has been bedbound & non-verbal since October--but I haven't cried.  I don't know why I can't.  I can get teary-eyed seeing reunions of the service men and women surprising their LOs, etc. etc. --but can't cry for DH.  It seems that I'm so busy caring for him & it's all so routine.  I'm guessing the gushing of tears will be coming, sooner than later.

CStrope

Joe C., I agree, with every person that I tell about my DH's diagnosis, the tears come.  Explaining to someone what the days are like, the things he's lost, the things our relationship has lost......always brings me to the reality I try to forget.

It is sad, in so many ways, for them, for us, for everyone involved.  How can we survive if we don't cry once in a while ( or maybe even every night for some of us!)

Crushed

Ive been on this road 11 years,  Most of the time I just feel numb inside.  The rest of the time I cry.

Doityourselfer

I don't cry because my husband has Alzheimers.  What makes me cry is my sons don't have a father they can talk to.  It's more of a loss for them not for me.

ButterflyWings

Bhopper and everyone, I know what you mean.

I know grief now, for sure. Sadness beyond measure, and it is only going to increase, we know. This anticipatory grief is a constant companion which I guess I ignore most of the time. I have felt the sudden gut punch, and also the agonizing sense of time marching forward irrevocably, taking our future and my best friend+other half with it. The obvious daily signs that AD is permanently stealing pieces of our life and love is sobering and so so sad. I've always been one to cry at movies, a sentimental song lyric, cute babies (aren't they all? ), puppies, my children's victories and losses, and my own. In the past I'd tear up at the silliest things, at both expected and unexpected times. Happy and sad tears were always plentiful. 

For these recent AD years though, I am like Lills described. Dry-eyed. But not by choice. It just happened, like so many things on this AD journey. It is another thing I'm watching and waiting to see how it unfolds. Such a sense of my life not being my own. I'm just here right now, trying to hold on, pay attention, and do the best I can. It's weird really.

We began seriously searching for a diagnosis 4 years ago. After a couple of false starts and ruling out other causes, we narrowed it down to dementia 3 yrs ago with a firm AD diagnosis. Sometime in that last phase of visits, conversations with Drs/DH/family/a few friends, scans, tests, and crazy home and work-life with DH's odd behavior on steroids, the tears just stopped coming. It's not that I try not to cry, I think its like Crushed said...part of me is just numb. It actually worried me to realize I couldn't cry. When we officially got a name for what was happening to my DH and learned what was in store for us, I felt intense sadness and deep loss, but still...no tears. I've felt a heaviness in my chest since the first inkling in the back of my mind that something was seriously wrong (more like in my spirit than physical really) and the feeling that oceans of tears are just waiting to fall. But there was relief to finally learn what was going on. So maybe that huge relief though devastating, cancelled out the weeping. I don't know.  

I think I am still in shock. And for sure that first year was just drinking at the fire hose, kicking into "5th gear, full throttle", running as fast as I could trying to get supports in place and get our affairs in order. Kept me too busy to cry.

By last summer, it was 2 years with deep sadness but dry eyes. Then a random, beautiful dance performance with some super talented young people flipped the switch. Tears just ran down my face and it wasn't even a sad or sentimental song or theme. It was just time I guess, and my disconnected emotions still let me know I was definitely crying for DH and for me, along with every other person dealing with something life altering and beyond their control.

Now at least, tears will well up when I see something sad or touching on TV or internet. But, this thread makes me reflect...it is almost like I am having an out-of-body experience with watching my DH and our lives deteriorate with AD, and for now...kind of in it, but not. It probably is a protective measure so I don't just completely lose it. I'm processing the grief and pain as we go, I think. This forum is huge for that. Keeping it real and not being in denial. 

Just, no tears for now though, for whatever reason. At this moment, I am at peace. I hope you all have a good day, or at least many good parts of the day.

Beachfan

I’m with Lills.  No tears here.  I don’t know if I’m too busy, too stoic, or just wired differently.  I feel nostalgic and melancholy at times, but very seldom deeply sad.  Yesterday, I cried at the end of  “The Bucket List” and again last night during the Memorial Day Concert on the Washington Mall.  But day to day with DH, I just keep busy and carry on.  Long ago, I vowed to try to live my life so that I would have no regrets if and when I lost someone close to me.  It may all come crashing down around me, but for now I am dry eyed and taking it one day at a time.  We all grieve differently in different ways and at different times, but, for sure, we all grieve.  

Today I am nostalgic and melancholy thinking about Memorial Day and all that it represents.