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.
