thanks{giving} #3

endless hours wandering & sitting.  that's how we spend our time, mostly.  he lacks the verbal skills to carry a conversation so lots of time is just sitting...so i listen to others.  other asks the receptionist when her son is coming to take her home.  other requests a car to escort him to the bank.  other questions why her daughter forget to come and pick her up.  other stares angrily out the door longing for his wife to pick him up in his Hyundai Sonata. other packs a box and brings his belongings to the lobby, announcing to everyone and no one that he has $400 and will give it to the first person to offer to take him home.

dear others,

i am sorry you feel lost and abandon.

your family has placed you here for your safety.

you will not be going home. to the bank. or in your Hyundai Sonata.

your angry is warranted but misguided.

your family has not stolen your freedom.

a disease is ransacking your brain, taking pieces without your awareness.

signed-

quiet listener

dear disease-

as you already know, there are a million facets of you i so loath

i am thanks{giving} you stole that part too.

 for erasing pjm's knowledge of home.

when i tell him good-bye and i will see him soon,

he walks off,  {no sadness. no distress}

never questioning why he isn't leaving or when i will be back for him.

signed-
his wife

dear God-

others tell me you will never give me more than i can handle.

i disagree.  i don't believe you gave me "this".

like you have a big spinner up there and somehow we landed on the "dementia" square.

i do believe you are full of grace.

i am thanks{giving} "that" piece is gone too.

i do not have the strength to hear those words mumbled from his lips,

"chrissy, take me home with you.  please."

signed-

me