One of my friends used to say that two of the most underused, but important, words are “Thank You.” I’d like to make up for that this morning by thanking you for being here. I am very unclear about how many of you are out there. I do know that some of the people I am closest to check in from time to time. There are quite a few others I don’t know at all. I have two counters that are supposed to tell me the number of visitors, but they give me such different numbers that I don’t know what to believe. It appears, however, that about half of the visitors are from the United States. The rest represent about 25 countries.
I started this journal the day of Kate’s diagnosis on January 21, 2011. I did it because I wanted to document our story. I didn’t have any immediate plans to make it public. I thought it might some day be of some interest to our children. As time passed, I began to think our experiences might benefit others as well. I don’t consider myself to be a writer, and my journal became too big for a book. That led me to think about a blog. The good thing about this format is that people can read as much or as little as they want.
What I didn’t anticipate was how I might feel as the blog unfolded. I’ve spent the better part of my adult life avoiding every opportunity to write. I didn’t anticipate that I would feel any obligation to make regular posts; however, I know that some of you are checking in at least periodically. Occasionally, that causes me to feel a little bit of pressure to write something every day. When I skip a day, it sometimes crosses my mind that you might wonder if everything is all right. At least one person has asked me about that. I intend to stick to my original plan. That is, I’ll write when there is something that I would like to have “on the record.” If I don’t have anything, I’ll wait until I do.
One of the things I can’t predict is how the rest of Kate’s journey will unfold and how that might affect my writing. If you’ve been here before, you know that we’ve been very fortunate. I don’t mean to minimize what I feel is the hardest part for me as a caregiver – the sadness I feel as I watch her gradually lose so many of her abilities to do everyday things. I have found, however, that she and I have adapted very well. The biggest surprise of all is that we are able to continue living what I think others would think of as a normal life. As a reader, you know that is far from the truth. What is the truth is that we really enjoy ourselves in the midst of the most difficult struggle we’ve ever faced. We are quite active, and we enjoy each other as much or more than at any time in our 55 years of marriage. What more could we want? Well, we could want Kate’s diagnosis to have turned out to been an error. We know that’s not possible. Our approach from the outset was to make the most of whatever time we have left. We’re doing that now and plan to continue that as long as we are able.
Thank you for being a part of our journey.
