Through the front door there’s a great view of a decked out Christmas tree basking in white lights, covered with snow and dripping with big sparkly white round ornaments. A white Christmas is definitely being celebrated in this house. But the mood is somewhat blue.
My hospice patient and her caregiver husband live here. They’re both seniors and have spent most of their lives together – working their family business and traveling in the RV in which they expected a multitude of road trips during their retirement years.
Image by woody1778a via Flickr
Four years ago husband sold the RV; wife could no longer negotiate the steps to assume her role as navigator in chief. That act signified an admission of his wife’s fatal disease and the death of dreams that had been years in the planning. That was also the last year she spoke; she hasn’t uttered a word since. Not because she was disappointed, but because her Alzheimer’s had advanced enough to rob her of voice. Now husband spends his days taking care of her.
Decorating the Christmas tree is something they always did together. In fact, she bought this very tree and the ornaments. It came adorned with white lights and snow. This year they decorated together again. He set it up, he added the balls, covered the tree base, wrapped the presents and carefully arranged them at the bottom. Wife slumped in her chair, sucked her lower lip, wrung her hands and nodded off. That’s this year’s Christmas, at least until his children join them in a couple of weeks.
Husband cherishes wife. She’s the love of his life and when she was diagnosed 8 years ago he promised he’d care for her until the end of her days. He meant it, despite the sacrifice it entails.
Being housebound is one of those sacrifices, except for my weekly visits to socialize with him and sit with her during the couple of hours he goes where he wants. His spirits are high, he laughs easily, he loves big. He embodies the true spirit of giving. And when he allows himself to think of how things were supposed to be, the twinkle in his eye grows dimmer.
He inspires me. He fills me with admiration. What inspires you this season?
actthreedotnet 
My dad cared for my mother as she slowly declined with Alzheimer’s. During those thirteen years she changed from a vibrant, creative woman to practically an infant in her hospital bed. Yet, there was a beauty that remained with her at each stage where she was. Each time I would travel home for the visit, there was a sense of anticipation to see at what age we would be visiting – and it was always interesting. Daddy was my and her hero as he gave (he would never want me to say sacrificed) his days with her as caregiver. Yet I know it was very hard for him at times. Your clients are fortunate to have you in the picture. It makes a difference. Glad you are there.
Thanks Margaret. My patient is at infant stage; I never met the vibrant, energetic woman her husband describes. We’ve been through photos on his walls and in his albums; I’ve heard stories about their work lives together and his children – 1 of whom I’ve met. He calls her baby doll. “Sacrifice” is my term, not his because, as a very social man, he does very little of it these days. He embodies loves and I don’t know if she knows it.
What an inspiring story. No matter what your circumstances, the most critical thing is your way of looking at things. In your story, the husband is fine as long as he’s feeling true to his mission of putting his all into caring for her. The only time he falters is when he thinks of what he will miss, what didn’t happen, what shouldn’t be happening. I don’t think it’s “unhealthy denial” to avoid such thoughts. It’s something I wonder about at times. God bless you, Joyce, for helping out. Merry Christmas.
He’s a hero in my eyes, and to his daughter who now really sees her father’s character. He’s doing the right thing for the simple purpose of doing the right thing – not because he’s expecting a return. A lovely man.
He is lucky to have you and you are lucky to have him. Just to know that each of you is giving of yourself and receiving so much more in return.
He’s become quite a good friend; a friendship that will continue once his wife succumbs. I’m looking forward to Rick meeting him too.
I just have to say “wow” that the man is doing what he is doing.
Love has many dimensions and it’s beautiful to read how someone can be so devoted and live up to his promises of care. Thanks for sharing this story of love and commitment as well as how one person – you – can reach out to strangers at a very difficult time in their lives and share your love and caring. Love and giving are such important parts of joyful living even during sad times. Bless you, Joyce, for sharing your love and stories with us.
Just spent the day with a couple – friends – in NC. The wife was diagnosed recently with ALZ. She is still the vibrant women we have known and I am sad to know what lies ahead for these lovely people. They are headed off for a Vacation in Hawaii soon. I know they are making the most of the time they have — A reminder to us all!