In dealing with Mary Jos dementia I keep being hammered by words that take on new significance. Heres what I wrote yesterday, Dec. 23, our 63rd wedding anniversary: Today, I had to deal with two delightful and dangerous words: Hope and Expectation. Hope stimulates vision and moves us forward--often with delightful anticipation. But watch out, anticipation is where danger lies. Hope-fueled anticipation can lead to expectations that arent met. If your emotions, your joy, and your happiness, are interlocked with what you expect—and, as a result, are dependent on getting what you expect, youre in a precarious position. Not only are you in a precarious position because youll hurt when things dont work out as expected, theres an insidious danger lurking there. Its one that can bring long time damage. What is it? Frustration with the person who foils your expectation! And it may not be just frustration. It can be anger and maybe even long-lasting hostility toward him or her. What the reaction will be is up to you. Or me. We must learn to deal with foiled expectations—at least part of the time. Case in point: Our 63rd Anniversary yesterday. I wanted it to be special for Mary Jo. I planned it to be a pleasant experience over lunch, one that would trigger pleasant memories of many delightful experiences and wonderful associations weve enjoyed. She didnt want to go out for an anniversary celebration. Too much trouble to bathe, dress up, get in the car (remember, little things are a burden to a person with limited strength and mobility), make the trip to the restaurant, go in, put up with the noise, wonder if the restrooms are accessible, etc. Its just too much. So I decided to fix a simple meal (Fancy ones are a bit beyond me!), one that we could enjoy—just the two of us—and do some reminiscing about Dec. 23, 1951 and the wondrous life-trip that day led to. So far, so good. With the meal in place, we sat down at the table, held hands and prayed. I knew what to do next. I had it laid out. We talked a bit about how blessed we are family-wise, focused perhaps a little on how great it is to have three great-granddaughters dancing/performing in the Madison, WI presentation of The Nutcracker Suite. The stage was set. I said something along these lines… Mary, Honey, sixty-three years ago about this time, you and I were on the Continental Trailways bus heading north to Kentucky. We were about six rows back on the drivers side. There werent many on the bus. We cuddled and kissed and sang—after all, we were newly, newly, newly-weds and it was Christmas! You sang lead, and I bass. Or I led and you sang alto. Some of the passengers may have joined in—I wasnt paying much attention to them—dont think the driver did. At Springfield, Russellville, and Lewisburg, passengers got off. Few got on. The bus became quieter. Mary Jo, Darling, suppose I had pulled out a crystal ball and with it we could have had glimpses of our future lives—what, of all that we have experienced, would have been most exciting to you? She stared vacantly, then a bit of a twinkle appeared. She spoke briefly about Kent and Lisa, our children, then Next time youre up, would you get me some coffee? She always says it that way. So I poured her some coffee and refreshed mine. I nudged her to pick up the line of our conversation—there was so much we could review and relive. She didnt. Dale, as soon as we finish eating, Ill do the dishes and then I want to watch T.V. Thats what happened. Her mind-movie of December 23, 1951 and what transpired in the later years, had flickered to a close and had been put in the archives to be pulled out and watched at another time. Perhaps. So, while she sat in her big chair in the living room watching a movie of Abraham and Isaac, I sat down in her wheel chair, rolled it up as close as I could without blocking her view of that father and son. I took her hand in mine, reached in my pocket and pulled out… Nail clippers. And trimmed and filed her nails. That was what she wanted. Was I disappointed in the way things had gone? Definitely. Was I angry at her and frustrated by her inadequate response? Definitely not. I may have shuddered an inaudible sigh, but, no, I love her! And I had not let myself wrap hope and expectation tightly together so I could be gut-punched by her failure to respond as I would have liked. I still have her. She still has me. I still have hope. And expectations. Both are important—the first is essential. But Im not married to expectations—Im married to her. So…as I said at the beginning of this post, Im learning to deal with two delightful and dangerous words: Hope and Expectation. Sure has made a difference. If this message provided you with some helpful insights, perhaps it would for folks you know. So please Like and share it. And you might encourage others to friend me so that they get my on-going thoughts about dealing with loved ones with dementia. I hope you have a delightful family-centered Christmas and a wonderful New Year!
Posted on: Wed, 24 Dec 2014 15:47:24 +0000
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