Sometimes, when we are faced with a long-term situation that looks hopeless, our emotions shut down. Professionals are also trained to remain “detached” in order to maintain the ability to make necessary decisions without emotional interference.

After three years of struggling with falls, dementia, falls, illnesses, falls, infections, falls, and too many 911 calls, my husband was losing ground quickly. My own health, stamina, and emotional stability were also in peril.

Everywhere I turned I was told the same thing.

“If you continue to try to be his caregiver, even with help, your chances of not surviving as long as him are 30%.”

During this season of The Long Goodbye, I had been seeking help for myself also. But the support groups, many counselors, and several books were pointing me in ONE direction.

MEMORY CARE!!!

One nurse who was helping us at home told me a new assisted living facility was opening just 2 miles away. She convinced me to check it out.

So I did. And I was very impressed, with the layout and with the staff. Soon I was attending a support group there, and took Bob for an evening of dinner and piano music. He said it reminded him of being on a cruise ship.

I felt encouraged.

I also was experiencing a HUGE struggle with guilt.

“How can you even think of placing the man you love in a memory care unit – no matter how nice it is!!!!”

            Those thoughts haunted me, but I had, by then, lost my ability to cry, laugh, or feel anything except weak, tired, and exhausted. Two hours at a time of sleep or naps was all I could manage then, even with 17 hours a day of in-home CNA help. (Certified Nursing Assistant)

So, with all the guidance pointing to only one “solution” for his safety and quality of care, and to maintain my own health and sanity, I stoically resolved to reserve a room for him.

Then, hounded with a feeling of sneakiness, I gathered Bob’s clothes, toiletries, several of his paintings, a model ship he made, and some of his favorite snacks and beverages, and everything else needed to make his room feel like home, and fixed his new dwelling place the best I could.

But, two days before his moving date, my doorbell rang. Two of my granddaughters asked if they could please come in and talk to me.

I had no idea what was on their minds.

These precious high-school seniors took the time to lovingly and boldly confront their grandma – hoping to keep me from making a decision that “I would regret the rest of my life”.

They both shared with me how much they had grown to love Bob (Bob and I had met at a widow/widows dinner at church 12 years ago). They offered to help me with anything I needed if I kept him home. Convinced that I was about to do something horrible, they wanted to prevent me from making this terrible mistake.

When I heard their passionate plea, my first response was to defend my decision with facts from my counselors, etc.

But, as I began to state my case, something changed deep within me. I started to weep, then cry, then sob – almost hysterically.

For the first time in more than a year, I was feeling emotional. Grief, sadness, more grief, more sadness, and the deep passionate love that I had for that wonderful man was no longer shrouded in denial (or whatever the defense mechanism was).

After this beautiful hour of honesty, I hugged my girls’ girls, (my daughters’ daughters), and they left.

But, even tho my emotions were restored that day, I still believed that I had to follow through with moving my husband to the facility–at least for a test period (which is what the facility called the first month).

The day for moving arrived. Bob allowed me to lead him to the car, and along with his daytime caregiver, we went through with the move.

I must say, Bob was very “brave”. He seemed to accept his situation, and was sitting in his new room and watching a familiar movie on his TV when I hugged him one more time, and left.

When I returned home, to my peaceful empty house, I fell apart. Sprawled on the sofa I cried and cried. For two hours I wailed and cried and prayed and cried and cried some more.

Then I thought, “Why should I live like a widow when the man I love is alive and just down the road?”

So, I called the facility and said I was returning to bring him back home. (My pastor, Father Tom, had counseled me to ‘follow my heart’. Finally — I was.)

When I walked into his room just over two hours after I took him there, we fell into each other’s arms like two young lovers would after a long separation.

We returned home.

My grandson, and granddaughters helped me pack up the furniture, lamps, and personal items and bring them back.

Five months later, when Bob saw the hospice people setting up a bed and observed me signing papers, he took my hand and said, “I’m dying, aren’t I?”

I responded gently, “Honey, this time you will not recover”.

He was sick with the third bad infection in 4 weeks & was septic.

Well, this man then said, “Nancy, I am so sorry.”

He was apologizing for leaving me. He had struggled so hard for over 3.5 years to recover again and again because of his desire to “take care of me”.

Yet, his dying statement to me was an apology. After that his conversations were with God Himself.

Four days later, 2 years and 2 months ago, he went to heaven as I held his hand.

And God has helped me with regaining my health, and I am enjoying a happy life again with some amazingly wonderful new friends

So, what is the point of this story?

If you are a young person, and you might think that you do not have enough life experience or wisdom to tell an older family member what is on your heart, I want to encourage you to prayerfully follow through and lovingly say what you need to say – then leave the rest to God.

And, if you are the grandparent, and a grandchild has the courage, love, and boldness to confront you about something serious, please realize that God can use him or her to help keep you on the right path.

Or, as we so often hear, “If the shoe fits, wear it”. Maybe this message is for you, even if you are not a grand ‘something’. God still can surprise you by placing someone on your path to help you along in the way you should go.

 

From 1Corinthians, Chapter 13, St. Paul wrote: Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous, [love] is not pompous, it is not inflated, it is not rude, it does not seek its own interests, it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury, it does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails…………So faith, hope, love remain, these three; but the greatest of these is love.”