Everyone thinks I'm such a happy person And...that I have it all together.
What they don't know is that I' feel I'm dying on the inside.
I don't have it all together.
I'm falling apart.
I truly love this time of the year...it's so special and makes me feel full of warm fuzzies. I feel the love all around...most of the time.
This year is the first of what I can imagine most holiday season's will be much like this one. Michael and I are living apart due to necessity associated with PD...Parkinson's Disease.
People handle things such as this in different ways; you know, different strokes for different folks. I wish I could say Michael is happy in this arrangements, but he isn't and I doubt he will ever be truly content. If the situation was reversed and I were in his shoes I probably would detest it as well. But as many say about things like this ;It is what it is.' and so it is.
He appears much healthier these days and he imagines he has a position, a job managing things in Memory Care but he's wondering why he's never reimbursed for all his leadership in that job. One does not argue with him about this because it's not real but if it tends to make him more satisfied day by day? He can imagine whatever he likes...He's one of many who have delusions about such things.
M thinks he and I are going to be moving into our little villa. Of course that won't be happening either but he can dream about it. On the other hand, he's always drumming up plans to escape. He calls his residence a prison. Sadly it is because he cannot go out unaccompanied by a responsible person. Being locked up rings of a prison but it's necessary for safety of the resident.
Being with him is good...the heartbreaking part is when I leave. He follows me to the elevator cubbyhole, stands there watching me leave. The double doors to the elevator space close and he's standing there...so wanting, so wishing he could go with me and he cannot. So sad...so sad.
I remember my sweet mother in a nursing home prior to her death in 2005. I cried every time I levt her. But the difference between her and Michael is this. She had a stroke and things didn't register with her. With Michael? Things lalong those lines register bigtime.
I find I've changed a great deal. I think it isn't noticeable to anyone but it's something inside me is changed...I feel so different and it's strange to me. It's much like being two rather than just one...me, the Vasca I was and still am but something's changed.
I meet, greet and smile because that seems to be my calling and my nature. I want to leave each one I meet feeling better...and perhaps that one will pass it on and so it goes. It's positive and good.
I don't feel sorry for myself or Michael; somehow we cope with each quake that comes along. We know it is going to crumble a piece at a time but it will continue deteriorating. The nature of Parkinson's.
Oh how I know we are blest that Parkinson's is all we have to wrestle with; things could always be worse...much worse, We are blest...really blest.
I've thought perhaps I should stop writing because I wanted this blog to always be encouraging, And I doubt I'm encouraging these days; I don't want to be morbid or anything along that line.
Sharing what is taking place between Michael and me is a release in a way...is it too personal? Who is to say...but you know, I'm transparent. So is Michael; he and I have talked much about that in the past...we want to be transparent. I've certainly been that and then some. An open book, lately it's all about...well, you know what it's about...don't you.?
Life changes...sometimes makes one's head swim. There's a motto on my weather app that says, "IT'S AMAZING OUT THERE"...with a beautiful panoramic shot of scenery that really is quite beautiful. Life is that way...amazing.
One more thing from Thomas Paine:
"I love the man that can smile in trouble, that can gather strength from distress
and grow brave by reflection. Tis the business of little minds to shrink, but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct will pursue his principles unto death.".
Thank you, Father for guiding me even when I'm wearing blinders. You never give up on me and I am very grateful for that amond a myriad of other blessings. Don't drop me, I'll try to do better.
From my heart, as always...to yours.