For most of the progression of Kate’s Alzheimer’s, she has been less talkative than she used to be. That has meant a significant change in our conversations. We often spend most of our time together in silence whether at home, during meals, or in the car. That has required an adjustment on my part since I am more of a talker. My parents talked constantly. I recall times when they had talked while my dad was getting ready to leave for work. and then again as soon as he reached the shop.
Kate’s and my conversations were never like those of my parents, but I would say they were probably similar to that of most couples. Talking requires too much of Kate. It is not uncommon for her to ask me tell her tomorrow what I was about to say right then. That ends the conversation.
Once in a while, however, she does want to talk. When she does, I welcome and encourage it. The subject matter is usually the same. She talks about her family and us as a couple. That was the case while we were at lunch today. I said something about the pictures I had taken over the weekend in Texas and mentioned her cousin Chester. When I did, she said something that let me know that she didn’t remember his passing away last week and attending his memorial service just two days ago. I often just let things like this pass, but I told her that Chester had died and that we had just returned from Texas. Then she said something about remembering being in Texas.
From that prompt, she said, “I’m really glad you got to know my family.” I told her I was glad too and that it had given me an appreciation for large, close-knit families. She continued the conversation talking about her father. She always speaks fondly of him, but she talks more about her mother. Then she talked about us. She mentioned how well things have always gone for us. I concurred. We both talked about Kate’s father having married a girl from out of state and her doing the same. We talked about the places we had lived and the excitement of each stage of our lives. Naturally, that included having children.
It was a very slow and tender conversation. I wasn’t just listening but participating. It is one of those special times that come along periodically. They always remind me that some of the best times we ever have are those that occur spontaneously and involve simple pleasures like today’s very ordinary lunch. She won’t remember it, but I will.
