So Far Away(1)

Jeff86

 So Far Away

Carole King

So far away 
Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore? 
It would be so fine to see your face at my door 
Doesn't help to know 
You're just time away

Long ago, I reached for you and there you stood 
Holding you again could only do me good 
How I wish I could 
But you're so far away

One more song whose meaning is colored by the dementia experience.

Friday was our anniversary, number 27.  Of course, only I remembered—how could my poor DW, who hasn’t known for quite a while that we are married, remember?

I considered ignoring the occasion, thinking perhaps nihilistically that there’s little point.  I doubt DW even understands what a wedding anniversary is, at this point.  But some inexplicable impulse drove me to mark the event, and so I bought her flowers and some miniature pastries.  These were greeted with a brief, unknowing smile.  No recognition or understanding.

I wasn’t surprised, or taken aback.  I guess really that I did it for me, because I do remember, and I cherish what we had.  But maybe, maybe, I did it because there won’t be many (any?) more anniversaries.  

We all know that our dear spouses/partners are dying, ever so slowly.  AD first took my DW’s memory, then her executive function, then her language.  Now it is taking away her body. She is slowly starving, as we of necessity transition to soft foods—she doesn’t chew much, and now when I feed her she won’t open her mouth wide enough, only sipping food off the spoon.  She is down 20 pounds over the past eight months.

I watch her as she sleeps, 14 hours overnight and additional hours during the day.  She is gaunt now, but still beautiful to me.  But she is so gone.  So far away.

ButterflyWings

(((Jeff))) - sending you virtual hugs for sharing this beautiful photo of such a precious commemoration. This post though. omg. I read the title and immediately hummed the refrain while waiting for the post to open...not even sure you were referencing one of my favorite songs and singers. Yet of course you were. And it is so appropriate for the occasion and our shared reality. 

Every word of the song, and every word of your post underscores exactly how so many of us feel. Heartbroken, holding on while we can, because we must. As hard as it is to celebrate under these circumstances, I also think at some level it is actually heroic. On the caregiver and husband scale, the lovely bouquet and decision to mark your 27th anniversary in such a touching way, is a testament to the love you two created. Even if only one of us can remember -- it confirms and affirms the depth and reality of the love that was, is, and will be. Even when they are so far away.

M1

Thinking of you today. The flowers are beautiful. I'm glad you went ahead and did it.

jmlarue

I feel your pain, Jeff. Our 54th anniversary is on July 12 - just 6 days away. My DH is also gone, along with all the memories of our love and many years together. I wish there was some little heartfelt gesture that could spark a glimmer of remembrance from my DH. In my heart and mind, I know that isn't possible. I'm not sure I can take another measure of heartache on our special day, so I may not even try. Your sweet offering to your wife was so poignant. So beautiful. So touching.

Joydean

Jeff, I’m glad you got the flowers and pastries. They are beautiful. It’s truly a testament of your love for your dear wife. She may not be able to remember, so you are remembering for the both of you. Her smile was for you. I don’t believe love stops as long as one can remember! You know if she could she would be celebrating with you. Take care of yourself too!

Ed1937

Jeff, your pain is evident in your post. I'm sorry these special days become so hard for those of us who can not have the comfort of being shared by the person we love.

Cookstownlad

Jeff, your post touched my heart. I lost my DW ten days after our 53rd anniversary which I shared with her in the MCF, but she had no understanding of the event. She loved Carole King and especially enjoyed “So Far Away,” as did I. Of course it has a much more poignant meaning for me now. Hearing it now brings both warm memories and tears. My DW also suffered severe weight loss over her last two months and she finally slipped away painlessly and quietly when her body could no longer sustain life. My journey is over but I still relate to all who are carrying on bravely against this brutal disease. My heart is broken, but I am grateful that the confusion and fear are over. I hope you can find some peace as the end draws near and know you did all you could to love and support your wife.