I’m here for you

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. ❤️