Being Kate’s care partner brings with it the full range of emotional experiences from joy to sadness. As I have said so many times, we have been fortunate to share far more of those at the joyful end of the scale than the other end. Sometimes joy and sadness are intertwined. We had one of those moments a few minutes ago.
I was in the kitchen (my office) when I heard her say, “Hey.” I looked up at the display on my iPad. I didn’t see any sign of her. Then I heard a louder “Hey!” She wasn’t in the bedroom at all. She had gotten up without my seeing her on the video cam. I walked to the back and said, “Where are you?” She said, “I’m here. Where are you?” I walked down the hallway and heard her say, “Here” just before I saw her coming out of the guest room. I said, “I wondered where you were.” She said, “I didn’t know where you were.” I said, “I love you.” She said, “I love you too.” I gave her a hug and said, “Doesn’t it feel good to be with someone you love.” She agreed, and I said, “I hope I am your favorite husband.” She laughed and said, “Who are you?” I told her, and she said, “Who am I?” I said, “Kate Creighton, and you’re my wife.” She said, “I am?”
We started to walk back to the bedroom when I saw pictures of her maternal grandparents. I pointed them out and told her these were special people to her. She asked who they were, and I told her. She was quite interested and wanted to know more about them. I told her they were her mother’s parents. She asked her grandparents names one at a time, and I told her again. Across from those pictures is a photo of the home in which her father grew up. I told her this was an important place for her and explained the significance.
I walked her a little farther and showed her a picture of her father. I said, “This is a very special man in your life. Can you guess you that might be?” She couldn’t. I told her, and she said, “He looks like a good man.” I told her he was. Then showed her a photo of paternal grandfather and her uncle taken with managers of her grandfather’s lumber business. She didn’t recognize them or the photo but was keenly interested.
The next photo was of her mother when she was in her late teens, I believe. It is my favorite picture of her. I told her that she was also someone special in her life. She didn’t know who it was before I told her. It is a photo she likes as well. She said, “She’s pretty.” The last photo was of her father’s mother. Kate had no recollection of her at all. When I explained that she was her grandmother and that she was the first member of the family to attend TCU, she was excited.
It doesn’t seem that long ago that Kate could have walked along this hallway and told the same stories to accompany these pictures. It is sad that her memory is now virtually gone. She can’t remember them at all. At the same time, it was a moment of joy for me to tell her these stories and for her to hear them. It is moments like this that sustain both of as we move into the later stages of our journey.
