As my recent posts suggest, Kate is on a serious decline. Her rational ability to remember names and places is extremely poor although some things jog her memory. Her photo books and my re-telling stories of family, our marriage, and her own personal experiences continue to be helpful. I don’t believe that she ever remembers on her own that she was an English teacher, school librarian, or church librarian. Even when I mention her degrees and her teaching, she is surprised. She was a volunteer church librarian for 19 years. She does recall that if I give her a little information.
I’ve noticed in recent weeks that she does not ask my name or hers as often as she had done previously. It still comes up, but it appears that she has reached something of a comfort level when she doesn’t remember. Yesterday at lunch, I mentioned something about our having celebrated our anniversary. She asked how many years. I told her, and we talked about how good our life together has been. She can’t recall any specifics on her own, but she talked about our having done so many things. I shifted the conversation and told her she was going to get her hair cut at 3:00. I mentioned the name of woman who cuts our hair. Then she asked her last name. I told her. She had difficulty getting it and asked me to repeat it several times. She said, “I just wanted to know in case I need to introduce her to someone.” I said, “I don’t think you have to worry about having to do that.” I paused and added, “But you might want to remember my name.” She looked as though she hadn’t thought about that and said, “What is your name? I really should know that.” I told her my name. Then she asked her own. She didn’t give any sign of being bothered by not knowing or acknowledging that she didn’t know.
I don’t know that she is actually sleeping any more than in the past, but she wants to rest more often. Resting right after we get home from lunch is common now. Frequently she lies down on the sofa while I sit in a chair across from her. It looks like she spends most of her time pulling her fingers through her hair. She does this every night when she gets in bed. She refers to it as “working” and believes she is doing something good for her hair.
While her rational abilities dwindle, her intuitive abilities shine. Almost every time she passes through the family room, she looks at the flowers blooming on the patio and often asks me to come over to look with her. In the past few weeks, it seems like she has gotten as much pleasure from the flowers and trees around town and our neighborhood as she does from music. I am happy to see that. She has also been looking at a garden magazine I got her a couple of months ago. She wasn’t drawn to it then.
She is more emotional about everything. That includes both happy and sad things. She gets teary far more often. I am more careful about telling her of any news that relates to death. She gets very sad. She also responds more negatively to things that bother her. That includes the heat, sudden noises, and music she hears at some of the restaurants we visit.
She still has moments when she wants to do things for herself. I am glad when that happens. Those moments are becoming fewer, however. When getting dressed, she sometimes asserts her independence and then needs to call on me for help. I feel sorry for her when that happens.
I wonder if this desire for independence is related to something else she has done a couple of times recently. At lunch the other day She said she was going to be taking a trip. I asked where. She said, “I haven’t decided yet.” I asked who she was going with. She said, “I’m not sure.”
Coming back from dinner last week, Kate said, “I’m going to pay attention because I’m thinking about coming out this way sometime. I might bring someone with me.” Another night, when I turned on the car’s air conditioner, she said, “I should be paying attention to this.” If I thought she would have any idea of how to start my car, I might be worried.
What seems most amazing to me is that we still enjoy life and each other. Yesterday was a particularly good day. We didn’t do anything special. We just enjoyed being together. I don’t want these experiences to end. If they do, I will try to remember the good times we have had. We are so fortunate.