AN ODYSSEY THROUGH THE TROUBLED SEAS OF DEMENTIA
— A LOVE STORY
It had gone to episodes of sudden confusion and rage,
triggered by nothing I could ever identify. Then paranoia,
people “upstairs in our home” to be taken care of somehow.
I told her: “We’re in a new season. We’ve never been old
before. We’ve got to learn to trust God in this time too.”
The discharging nurse’s last greeting was: “It’ll get worse . . .”
“Keith”, she said: “Don’t be afraid. It’s going to be all right.”
She was unbelievable—reassuring me.
By then she had lost almost all of her abilities—even to hold a
fork or to scratch her own nose.
She initiated her own blink signals: one for “yes”, two for
“kisses”, three for “I love you”. Dance?—o yes, we still danced.
Jitter-bug moves—seated. If you were watching, probably
pretty comic. .
It’s this period, three years of the Last Season, that began to
hold a sweetness for us.