Tonight the sides close in

SPin-need

I struggle

One footfall then the next

Got to move forward as there is no choice

Yes, I guess there is 

But that choice is not who I am

But as I walk this path I will no longer be who I am

When I was 14, Sister Mary Neri caught me reading Catch 22.

She did not approve.

So I read it twice and understood it as much as I was able

I am there now

Unable to complete anything as the rules change daily

And I love this man with all my heart

I am told to not let the disease control me.

But it controls him and I am his path

His hope

His hope will kill me as I know me

I struggle to survive

On a path love will not let me leave.

psg712

That is painfully real. IThank you for sharing.

Biggles

nothing is or will be the same again. It’s painful, it’s sad, it’s hideous, it’s horrible. This is not me this is not the path I wanted or want to take, to fight against it doesn’t work, to run with it and you are lost. There is only one way that I know and that is to follow your heart with all the little things breakfast, lunch, dinner, the washing, the TV shows. Vent as much as possible this is a good place to let loose. Take care know we are listening.

midge333

Thank you!

Karen711

…with you sister, well said! Hang in there! You are heard!

trottingalong

well said. Sad but true

jfkoc

This disease will control you. There is no way around that . You will be forever changed. But that is life, right? Everyday something new to learn.

The good thing is that there are many who have traveled this road and are there to help us 24/7/365.

ImMaggieMae

You said it all, and perfectly. We understand and are right here with you.

Nowhere

Your poem is beautiful. And I understand. I’m only okay when my husband is okay, too. Now that he’s in advanced dementia, I feel he is most of the time okay and the disease is no longer controlling him. It’s had its way. I think he’ll simply fade and that’s sad, but peaceful. He is no longer desperate nor panicked with the scrambled messages of a broken brain trying to make sense. Within this past year he has said without emotion,” I cannot think”. And since this is the case he’s quiet and full of rote pleasantries and smiles. I hold onto him and make his now as pleasant as possible. He has no idea of time, place, nor past, but he walks and answer yes or no. He cannot think to hold on to a worry or a joy. He doesn’t know what he had, so it isn’t lost any longer. And I’m right here. And so proud of him!

June45

Wow! Well said!!