I’m here for you

blacksparky

We met in 2010. Married in 2013. Just the two of us building a life on conversation, travel, curiosity, and the kind of partnership that doesn't need an explanation. The diagnoses of EOAD arrived in October 2023. The disease that started years before had progressed to the point where DW could no longer manage her own affairs and needs 24/7 care. We didn't hide it. We talked about it privately with our family and friends. I read that dementia doesn't arrive like a storm. It arrives like a tide. Each time it pulls back, something that used to be there is simply gone. The restaurants we loved. The travel and cruises that defined our lives. The long evening conversations that had been the foundation of everything we loved and cared for. She no longer knows my name or that I am her husband but when I walk into the room, she smiles. She tells me that she loves me. There's still fire in her. She still reacts to things that offend her. The woman is still in there, and I am paying attention to every moment she's accessible. I do not describe this as sacrifice. This is what a marriage is. I’m committed. The vows I spoke in 2013 weren't hypothetical. For better or worse weren't just words said on a beautiful day. It was a promise for days exactly like this one. Just like me, most people who say those words are quietly hoping the "worse" never shows up. They mean it when they say it. But they're saying it in a beautiful moment, and the worse feels abstract and far away. For me the worse showed up, and I’m doing exactly what I said I would do. I know that there are millions of Americans doing this same work right now—caring for a spouse, a parent, a sibling. People who show up every single day for someone with this terrible disease. They just do it because that's what they promised. For better or worse is not a line in a ceremony. Its what you do on a quiet evening when the person you've loved for 15 years doesn't remember what year it is, but still smiles when I walk in the room. It’s showing up, again and again. Because that's the entire definition of love when everything else has been taken away. I apppaud all you caregivers out there that wake up each day not knowing what the day will bring but continue to do your best for your LO. ❤️

Michele P

https://alzconnected.org/discussion/75574/i-m-here-for-you

I applaud you! This is what love looks like. This is the commitment we make to the one we love. Your wife is blessed to have you as her husband! This is one of the most beautiful posts I have read on this site. Thank you for sharing it.

David1941

I agree with Michelle: this is to what I also aspire with my DW of 62 years! Thank you Black Sparky. What an inspiration!!

Jgirl57

Sweet post; thank you for sharing

Jeff H

What a great post. My DW was agitated at me tonight and was getting upset. Then, in a flash, she said she was sorry and asked for forgiveness and she wanted a hug. I hugged her as I cried to myself. For better or worse. I've got this with all of your help. Thank you blacksparky 

SDianeL

beautiful. 💜

jgreen

Thank you, @blacksparky

💝

trottingalong

that really was a beautiful post to read first thing this Sunday morning. Thank you.

Maru

https://alzconnected.org/discussion/75574/i-m-here-for-you

Beautifully stated. I was 18 when we married 67 years ago. I didn't understood what "worse" could look like, but here it is facing me. I don't think of this as sacrifice. This is just what you do when you are committed to someone.

White Crane

Thank you.