Sunday, April 12, 2015

a year ago...

Seems hard to believe that it's been almost a year since my husband Randy was diagnosed with early onset dementia. Frontotemporal dementia. Pick's disease. You can read his story HERE.

There are still moments when changes in his behavior are so overwhelming it's like a punch in the gut. I can hardly breath.
And then there are moments that are so sacred and beautiful I don't want them to ever end.
Such is the life of a dementia caregiver.

I am so blessed that Randy loves the Adult Day Care Monday through Friday... and that dear friends and family spend their Saturdays caring for him while I work... and that I am daily covered in prayer... and that I don't have to worry because my needs are being met. But I do anyway. I pray to God to take all my worries and fears. Every day I lay them at His feet. And then systematically heap them all back in my handy, dandy backpack and carry them around all day. It's exhausting. I long for the day when He comes for His children and I can spend eternity in His presence. Till then, I cry out to Him daily, to know His peace, joy, freedom and acceptance here on earth.

I was recently asked what I miss.

I miss his hugs. He still hugs, but only cuz I first hug him.
I miss his compassion and concern for others.
I miss making memories with friends.
I miss the hours we spent dreaming about growing old together.
I miss doing life alongside my helpmate.
I miss hearing him sing and play guitar.
I miss family dinners.
I miss my family.
I miss him grilling burgers on the grill.
I miss our social life.
I miss riding shotgun with him behind the wheel.
I miss roadtrips.
I miss having someone take care of me.
I miss hearing him teach at the marriage retreats.
I miss sitting in church with him.
I miss hearing him worship.
I miss his leadership, influence and service.
I miss my husband.